


The Old Switcheroo

by LollyHolly99



Series: As-Yet Untitled A/C Job Switch Series [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Arson, But not at first, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Feelings Jams, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Apocalypse, Title Subject to Change, but isn't that just canon anyway, but not for too long, but the lads are Nakey on-screen for a while tho, does this count as reverse omens?, everyone's a bit of a bitch, interior design mischief, it's angsty for a little while, man i still don't know how to tag, off screen but the aftermath is there, off-screen sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LollyHolly99/pseuds/LollyHolly99
Summary: "For the first time ever, Heaven says they're taking a Fallen angel back in. That being you." | "Well, to put it simply... you're officially Fallen."---For reasons unknown to them, Crowley and Aziraphale are told they're getting eachother's jobs. They deal with this in their own special ways.





	1. A few months down the line

**Author's Note:**

> *vibrates* so. a week and a half ago my brain just. sCREAMED at me to write this. and I have enough ideas in my head to finish this probably??? and I'm rly liking writing it. so I'm going right on ahead w/ this. I don't know if this specific concept's been touched on already and I honestly don't care to know cus man I'm having tons of fun here
> 
> I've got 3 chapters lined up already (bc I've been writing like a monster this past week lmao) and hopefully a good few more afterward BUT as a warning: there might be regular-ish updates for the other 2 I already have but if chapters slow down after that it's because I'm Big Stupid
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!! <3

"God does not play games with the universe."

_Yeah fucking right._

* * *

It was a cool autumn morning, and a peculiar pair - a demon and an angel, both rogue agents, 'traitors' to their particular causes - were walking down the street together to a certain A. Z. Fell's bookshop.

The angel's - Aziraphale's - hands were full. In one hand, he carried a box, containing a number of small, sweet pastries from the lovely café he and his partner had just finished breakfast at. They were a treat for later - though, not _much_ later, seeing how they just looked _far_ too delicious for him to resist.

The only reason he wasn't currently munching on one as he walked was because his other hand was occupied with holding the free hand of the demon, Crowley, walking beside him. Crowley's other hand was less busy than any of the other three in question, simply resting in a pocket of his tight trousers.

The front door shut quietly behind them as they stepped inside the bookshop, chatting about the morning behind and the day ahead.

"I almost want to head straight back there already!" Aziraphale chuckled. "Oh, the _waffles_, dear, they were darn near divine!"

Crowley smirked. "Angel, I _was_ there, if you recall. I think I might've been able to tell that they were good based on all your little 'oh, this is _really_ tasty' noises."

"Well, yes..." Aziraphale paused as he set down the box on a nearby table. "...But they _were_ really tasty, I just can't understate that! Perfect, I might even say!"

Crowley pouted exaggeratedly for a second at that. "Never called _me_ perfect before. You like those waffles more than me, eh?"

It was a joking tease, evident from the amused look on Crowley's face, but the angel reassured him anyway, kissing his cheek. "Of course not, darling. I just thought it was obvious enough that you're perfect that it didn't warrant saying out loud. There's nothing I could love more than you."

"And..." Crowley draped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him closer. "Nothing more than you, either, love."

They were allowed a brief moment to share a kiss before being rudely interrupted by the ring of Crowley's phone in his pocket. He rolled his eyes at the sound (the most generic ringtone possible, for the nuisance factor) and quickly tapped ignore on the call. An unknown number? Expecting him to answer? In _this_ day and age? Not likely.

"Was somebody telephoning you just now?" Aziraphale asked, glancing at the demon's pocket. "Who could that have been?"

"Oh, nobody." Crowley responded. "Nobody worth talking to, 's just gonna be someone asking if I'm getting the best deal on my energy bills or something."

"...You don't pay energy bills."

"Exactly. Not worth talking to."

No sooner than Crowley had spoken, his phone rang again, showing the same unspecified caller, and he denied them yet again with a huff.

"Persistent today, aren't we?" he tutted.

The phone sounded off yet again, and this time, Crowley had barely enough time to put the thing away again before it did. And this time, no ringtone was heard, just the voice on the other end coming through regardless of the lack of answering.

"What on earth is the point of being able to be contacted at any time if we simply have to do things the _sort of_ old-fashioned way?!" a demonic voice snapped.

Crowley's face dropped. "Oh no."

"Oh no?" Aziraphale repeated.

"-only bloody functioning electronic device within your vicinity, _where even_ could you be-" the voice continued to ramble.

Crowley looked to Aziraphale with a grimace. "Hell."

"Oh _no_."

"-first day here at this job and I get to call upon the elusive _Crawley_, yay me, I know you scared everybody and all, but that doesn't give you an excuse to make my job harder, I'm having a shitty day as is, and you don't scare me, you bastard, you're not better than any of us-"

Crowley answered the call and set it to speaker before they really flipped their lid. "_Crowley_ speaking. Good for you, great to hear there's still someone who's gonna be a challenge to scare after the... the bath thing. Love to give it a try sometime. Um, am I still not on a 'do not call' list down there then?"

The phone went dead silent for a few seconds, then the voice spoke again, far more timidly than before. "...Uh... I... you heard all of... I meant to make it ring again, not-"

"S'alright, people've said worse to me. Just get on with it."

"R-right." The young demon cleared their throat. "Lord Beelzebub has ordered your attendance to a meeting with them immediately."

Crowley's already cold serpentine blood ran even colder. "Wh... what for?"

"They didn't specify. Something big, it seems. And they want you there now."

"...And if I don't want to go? Can't really touch me, can you?"

"We don't know what the punishment will be if you don't turn up, either, considering the... water incident... but we've been assured it'll be worse than attending. So, there's that to keep in mind."

"And if I'm busy?"

"Then be _not_ busy."

"Sounds like an empty threat to me."

"Well... you can believe what you want. None of my business. I'm just delivering the message. _Definitely_ wouldn't recommend skiving though."

"Right," Crowley sighed. "Okay, alright, duly noted."

"Don't keep them waiting, _Crawley_."

And with that, the phone went silent again.

"_You_\- mph, little cheeky bugger."

"Well," Aziraphale, having heard the entire conversation, piped up. "That's... alarming."

"You're telling me." Crowley frowned. "Ugh, what do they want with me? _Months_ of silence and all of a sudden Beelzebub themself wants an audience with me again."

"You're going now, I presume?" the angel responded with an equally concerned expression.

"Seems like I don't have a choice. But... something smells fishy about it, angel."

"Hmm, yes, I'm certainly not liking this. Oh," Aziraphale took Crowley's hands in his own and kissed them, squeezing them tightly. "Crowley, dear, do be careful, won't you?"

"'Course I will. Oi, love, in case anything happens to me-"

"Oh, perish the thought. But... if so, I'll make sure to raise hell about it." Aziraphale answered with a smile. "Or... heaven. Or both!"

Crowley couldn't suppress a smile of his own. "I was gonna say I want you to know how much I love you, but that works too."

"Ah. Yes, of course. And I love you too, dearest. _Immensely_."

With a few more moments, one more kiss, and a "Wish me luck!", Crowley had disappeared, on his way down to his old workplace, and Aziraphale had sat down with a book to try and keep his mind off his partner's current predicament.

And very shortly after, someone arrived at the bookshop, disregarding the 'closed' sign, and entered.

* * *

It had been some time since Crowley had last been to Hell. Longer still since he himself had _actually_ been there, and not just Aziraphale wearing his visage while he was off in heaven doing the reverse. The place hadn't changed at all in those few months. Still as dim and dank and dingy as ever. Messy, and crowded, and full of the worst folks around.

The throng of demons parted nervously as Crowley made his way through the hallways to Beelzebub's throne room, the lights overhead flickering intermittently. The anxious looks on the other demons' faces upon seeing him served to calm his own worries, if only slightly. It was easier to act the part of the immeasurably powerful demon who was immune to holy water when everyone else already believed him to be exactly that.

_This is fine_, he convinced himself, so that it might possibly be true. _This... is okay._ In much the same manner, and with the same intensity, that he made himself believe his car was functional just months prior, he kept believing that _everything was going to be just fine_. Perhaps his imagination would even work again.

He kept the thought running through his mind all the way up until he stood before Beelzebub, where it quickly disappeared as they spoke and brought him back into the moment.

"So, you actually came."

Crowley nodded in their direction, as nonchalantly as possible. "Alright, Beelzy?"

"No need for the pleasantriezzz, Crowley, let's get straight to it." Their voice held the same cold, unimpressed authority as it always did. On the other hand, their position in their seat was stiff and guarded - still slouching, but noticably off from the lazy way they usually sat.

"Yeah, alright. So, uh, what's the deal, then? Bringing me down here? Thought you wouldn't wanna see me back here after... y'know, last time."

"Yes, well, we don't want to see you here, but there's newzzz, and we've all decided it would be better to tell you on our own turf."

"Whatever you say." Crowley shrugged. "What's the news?"

Beelzebub got straight to it. "It's clear to all of us in Hell, especially after your dealings with the antichrist, that none of us here are all that fond of you,"

"Ouch?"

"And it would appear the feeling izzz mutual. Am I wrong?"

Crowley paused for a second. "To be honest... nah, mate. Spot on."

"Good to hear. Well then, here's some good news for you." They went silent, leaving him in suspense as they sat up and leaned forward. "For the first time ever, Heaven says they're taking a Fallen angel back in. That being you."

Those few words were enough to leave Crowley speechless, dumbstruck. Beelzebub continued, to try and hasten his processing of the new information.

"You're officially an angel again."

* * *

"Um," Aziraphale called out into the nearly-empty shop. "Shop's closed right now, I'm afraid! I'm not sure if you saw the sign, but you'll have to come back later! Goodbye!" He felt rather silly for not having locked the door. Then again, his hands _had_ been full, and his mind was preoccupied.

"Oh, I'm not here as a customer." an all-too familiar voice called back, its source heading closer to the angel.

He knew exactly who it was.

"_Oh, lord_."

Gabriel stepped into view, his hands clasped together, and his gaze met Aziraphale's own displeased one.

"Aziraphale." he greeted simply, with a synthetic, strained smile.

"Gabriel." Aziraphale closed his book and set it aside. "I wasn't expecting guests today."

"And I wasn't expecting to _be_ a guest. But," Gabriel shrugged. "Business demands it."

_Business_. As if Aziraphale hadn't wanted the conversation to be over quick enough.

"Right. How are things in heaven, then? Good? Fantastic. What are you doing in my home?"

The archangel was unprepared for Aziraphale's curtness, but managed to keep his surprised reaction to a minimum, just a twitch and a deep breath as he readied himself to speak again.

Gabriel's smile faded to a put-on frown. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Aziraphale, but we've received word that you're, uh... well, to put it simply... you're officially Fallen."

* * *

"Wh..." Crowley never was excellent with his words. "What if I don't wanna be an angel again?"

"Tough luck. It's been decided already." Beelzebub answered simply.

"The- you- there's- no, there's no way. I stepped out of line, I'm, y'know, unforgivable."

"Evidently, there is a way. _Congratulations, forgiveness found_. As of today, you're dismissed of your demonic duties. Now," They slouched back again with a hint of a sneer on their face. "Get out before you stink the place out with _goodness_. Ugh."

The concept almost refused to set in for Crowley. He stood, stunned, yellow eyes fixed on nothing as Beelzebub's words echoed in his head.

Beelzebub spoke up again to bring his attention back. "Do I need to remind you of the way out?"

Crowley shook his head. "N-no. No, I'll... see myself out."

Without another word between them, he turned and left. The short walk to exit Hell felt as though it stretched out into hours as his thoughts filled with fog and confusion, a thousand questions hitting him at once.

_Why_? And why _now_? Was this because of the averted apocalypse? He would've thought the reaction would be quicker than the gap of months between then and now if that were the case. What's he done for this? Thousands and thousands of years as a demon, and now... now what? He's just supposed to take up his old role up above again like millennia hasn't passed since before his Fall? What in the fuck?

Before he knew it, he was back up the escalator, stepping off it. He took a second, now free from the stuffy, oppressive environment down below, to take a deep breath. He had to calm himself down. He had to get a grip.

In. Out. In. Out. Breaths he didn't _really_ need to take, but did anyway - they did help with the agitation in his corporeal body, at least somewhat.

He tried to focus on the definite positives to the situation, rather than the potential negatives. Hey, he had another thing in common with Aziraphale again! And he didn't have to work (Well, neither he nor Aziraphale did much work for either side lately - they did still do plenty of blessings and damnings and the like, just more that they carried out on their own terms and less that they were ordered to do - but still.) alongside all the gloomy bastards down there anymore!

Shit, this was a free pass to work closely with Aziraphale - even if they'd 'worked' as closely as they could do for the past few months without regard for any consequences, and _actually_ worked together - fairly closely, considering who they were - for centuries. And-!

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat from the top of the other set of escalators. The ones that went up from his current position, that he now knew he'd be climbing soon enough. He turned to face them, and-

_Ugh. Michael._

"Demo- _mmph_, Crowley?" They gestured behind them. "Gabriel will be back soon to welcome you to your new position. Or, rather, your old one, I suppose. Head on up, if you would."

Now there's a definite negative. Every other bloody angel.

* * *

"I... um..." Aziraphale stuttered. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand."

Gabriel sighed. "The Almighty's seen fit to... fire you, so to speak. You're being kicked out of Heaven, and deprived of your angel status."

Aziraphale frowned, his brow furrowed. "Wh... No, no, that can't be right... What could I have done to bring this about?"

"We..." The archangel seemed to think hard for a second. "...Can't be too sure, but if I had to guess? It probably has something to do with the whole... 'having a hand in stopping armageddon' thing."

"Well, that definitely can't be right, that was months ago!" Aziraphale protested. "Surely She would've reprimanded me sooner than this, were that the case. And what about... you know, the cancelling of the apocalypse being part of the ineffable plan? If that weren't meant to happen, She... She wouldn't've let it, would she?"

Gabriel shrugged. "God works in mysterious ways, Aziraphale. Her decisions are Her decisions."

Silence hung between them as Aziraphale digested Gabriel's news, almost saying something, and almost saying something again. Any words he came up with got caught in his throat, though, tightening it, choking him, silencing themselves.

Thousands of years spent being afraid of Falling came rushing back to him in an instant. Of course, of course this would happen just after he'd managed to shake that very fear. Yes, he and Crowley were no longer loyal to either side, just themselves, but it was a shock to the system. Words he thought he'd worked hard enough not to hear, an announcement he'd avoided for so long.

He couldn't be sure whether he would've preferred to have the news broken to him long ago or right now. For an Aziraphale of years past, it would've been confirmation that he wasn't good enough, that, careful as he was, he just couldn't reach Heaven's standards. And - though he hadn't yet considered it - for the Aziraphale now, it was a slap in the face, a declaration that all his elaborate efforts to work with Crowley while keeping things the same as always were all for nought.

He was so sure he'd be able to deal with the news better, but it was really the one thing he'd been afraid of most, all this time.

The one thing... alongside...

His eyes blew wide open, and his already-fidgeting hands shook.

_No..._

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "Um... Cr-Crowley..."

"Your demon buddy? What about him?" Gabriel asked dismissively.

"He was here, just now, um..."

"Yes, I thought it smelled particularly evil in here today. Though, I guess that could be down to the new..." The archangel gestured up and down Aziraphale's form. "Essence, that you're getting. Your new job. All tha-"

"He was summoned away by Hell for something just a moment before you arrived. Is he..." Aziraphale interrupted, urging the conversation back on track. He swallowed hard, too anxious to voice his greatest worries. "Does this have something to do with that? Is- is he alright?"

Gabriel looked around, disinterested. "Hard to say. That's Hell's dealings, not ours."

The answer did nothing at all to assure Aziraphale.

"Anyway!" Gabriel clapped his hands together. "Just came down to let you know. Oh, and, uh, by the way, you've got until the end of the day to finish up any business you've got upstairs, collect any of your things you've still got there, anything like that. Gonna have to close the gates on you after that."

Aziraphale's nails dug into the flesh of his hands with how tight his fretful grip became.

"Well," Gabriel continued, unconcerned with Aziraphale responding. "This is goodbye, I suppose."

Without waiting another second, he turned to exit, and Aziraphale was left alone, trembling.

His body almost felt numb enough from the flurry of confusion within him that he almost didn't notice a tingle running up his spine moments later. It began as a tingle, and escalated. A tingle, a light burn, a searing burn, _pain_.

He felt his wings burst forth through it all, and caught the reflection of them in a nearby mirror. Flames sprouted from the spot where they connected to his back, and licked outwards across his snowy white feathers. As they spread, they turned darker, darker, until they were entirely black as pitch, and the flames snuffed themselves out on the very tips of the wings.

Then suddenly, when the fire dissipated, he felt, rather than saw, the area of floor below him open up and pull him into emptiness.

And then he was Falling.


	2. New/Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was gonna hold off on posting this chapter a lil longer but after my job interview today I was like "y'know what I need? something that'll make me almost as anxious. in like the opposite direction or something" so here it is!! as always, hope y'all enjoy <3

Heaven wasn't too far off from how Crowley remembered it, he mused to himself as he followed behind Michael. He hadn't got to properly take in the surroundings last time he was there, impersonating Aziraphale - he'd been more focused on keeping up the act - but this time he got enough of an eyeful to analyse it a little.

Sterile, full of empty space, no decor in the slightest. And most of all, covered floor to ceiling with whiteness and bright light - it was something his eyes hadn't been accustomed to in such a while that he had to squint a little to bear it, even behind his sunglasses.

"So," Crowley piped up over the uncomfortable quietness of the place. "When's he coming?"

"In a moment." Michael stopped suddenly, and turned to face him. "Wait right here." Then, they walked off.

Crowley was left alone for no longer than a minute, but the simultaneous anxiety and boredom of being left in an unfamiliar(ish) place stretched it out to feel far longer. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets with a sigh, and absentmindedly began to tap his feet on the floor.

_Bit of a stupid move, leaving me here like this already, free to roam about and do whatever_, he thought to himself. _Could cause a big old mess if I wanted._

And he did want to, it sounded like a right laugh, making a bit of trouble while unsupervised in _Heaven_ of all places. But he concluded that it wouldn't be the best thing to do at the moment and put the idea aside. For now.

Finally, Gabriel arrived, striding over to the un-Fallen demon casually as anything.

"Crowley!" he greeted, with the coldest warmth in his voice.

Crowley's eyes burned into him through his shades. Their last encounter (as unknown to the archangel) had been, to say the least, not the best. "Hmm. Been a while, eh, Gabe?"

"It's... Gabriel."

"Oh, sorry, lemme correct myself." Crowley said, dripping with sarcasm. "Been a while, eh, twat-features?"

Gabriel took a deep breath, then let his face fall back into an artificial smile. "You know, I have to wonder if you even need another introduction to Heaven. I mean, you haven't been back here for a _long_ time, but... you remember your way around, right?"

A long time since he'd been there while he still held the status of an angel, yeah, but oh, he'd been back since then.

"Yeah, well enough, I suppose." Crowley responded, shrugging.

"_Fantastic_." Gabriel patted Crowley on the shoulder harshly. "Welcome aboard again! And congratulations on Her forgiveness."

Crowley bristled at the touch, and frowned. "Yeah, yeah."

"Well, we'll be in touch about your duties soon."

And with that, Gabriel made to leave.

"'_Congratulations on Her forgiveness_'." Crowley mocked under his breath once the archangel was firmly out of earshot. "Prick."

"Oh!" Gabriel suddenly exclaimed, turning back towards Crowley. "Almost forgot. One more thing."

With a point of Gabriel's finger, Crowley's wings appeared, and the ex-demon looked towards them inquisitively.

"What's all this about, then?" Crowley asked.

"Give them a shake." Gabriel suggested.

"Why?"

"You'll see."

Crowley saw no good coming of not doing so, and had them flap just the once. Masses of ash suddenly fell from them, reminding him of a thick layer of dust blown off of one of Aziraphale's old tomes. Beneath the ash, freshly revealed, were pristine white wings, like he'd had before his fall.

"Hmm." Gabriel made a face at the dark mess now covering the floor. "In retrospect, I should've told you to do that outside. No worries, I'll get someone to clean that up."

Crowley frowned. "I liked them black."

"Yes, I can see these aren't really your..." Gabriel looked Crowley over, up and down. "Style. But those weren't wings of an angel, so, uh... they had to go."

"Right." Crowley tutted. "Oi, why am I being brought back here now, anyway?"

"Well," Gabriel forced his smile back again. "Seems you've just got too much good in you, Crowley."

"Hm. Yeah. Enough good to be damned for thousands of years, eh?"

Gabriel decided to not respond to the question, and walked off with a small wave, calling back to Crowley as he left.

"Great to have you on board again!"

* * *

The act of Falling itself, in the moment, felt like an endless drop. With no possible landing in sight, there was no way of telling how long the Fall would be. All Aziraphale had was an indeterminable amount of time to reflect on what led him to that point.

The landing, however, made it feel like it had only taken seconds to Fall, regardless of how long it may have actually taken. Everything burned. Harshly, intensely, so much so that it burst through the dizziness from the freefall and consumed every nerve in his body.

Aziraphale fought through the burning pain, struggling to make sense of anything around him. He wasn't on solid ground, he knew that at least. It was almost as though he were still falling, but the air around him was thicker, there was a resistance when he moved his limbs.

It wasn't air, he realised. It was liquid. It was boiling hot sulphur.

With all the effort he could muster, he made his way through the deathly pool of liquid and climbed out. Once free, he collapsed at the very edge and rolled onto his back, panting heavily as relief washed over him and the sulphur ran off him. The majority of the pain had faded away once he breached the surface, and the rest was slowly ebbing with it.

His eyes opened at last, and he spent a moment taking in his surroundings. Besides the bubbling sulphur beside him, there were the walls and ceiling - fairly familiar, from what he saw - a door, closed, and not much else.

"Oh," he sighed to himself, disappointedly recognisant. "I know this place."

As if on cue, a somewhat familiar demon opened the door. It was one of them from just behind the viewing window at Crowley's trial - he vaguely remembered their expression from when he'd splashed water at the glass.

They looked Aziraphale up and down. "You're the new recruit?"

"Um," He hesitated. "I... I suppose?"

"Come on, then." they said dully, motioning for him to follow them before exiting.

After a moment of processing their request, he scrambled to his feet. He took pause for another second, looking around anxiously, then quickly caught up to follow behind them.

They led him on a path he'd walked almost exactly before, to the very same room where he'd tricked all of Hell. It looked just the same as it had looked the last time, but minus the bathtub and the majority of the demons.

"My lord," they called as the pair of them entered the room. "The newly Fallen angel has arrived."

He stood before Beelzebub, who was sat upon their throne - again, the same as last time. Once they'd given him an appraising look, they spoke up.

"So, Aziraphale, was it?"

"Ah, y-yes, and you're... Beelzebub, prince of hell." He nodded at the high-ranking demon, wringing his hands nervously. "Um... Nice... to meet you?"

"Pleasure'zzz all yours. Welcome to Hell."

* * *

Crowley grumbled all the way back to the bookshop, mumbling curses to his old-new bosses that he couldn't properly act on anymore.

As he opened the door, a wave of _something_ washed over him, potent enough to take his breath away for a moment. 

"Wh..." he panted. "_The fuck_?"

He stepped into the shop, and though the feeling faded, it didn't disappear, faintly lingering deep in his chest somewhere. Great, things were getting weird already. Whatever. He just wanted to sit in Aziraphale's lap and tell him about what had happened and put today's events behind him. He could figure out how to dodge all the new Heaven bullshit later.

"Oi, angel!" he called into the empty shop. "I'm back, love! Oh, you're not gonna believe what happened!"

He was greeted only by silence.

"Angel?" he repeated.

No response.

A good five minutes was spent by him wandering around the shop, checking every area, every nook and cranny, for Aziraphale - yes, he would have _likely_ preferred to be sitting on a comfy chair to read or whatever, but who knows, he could be curled up in a corner, hidden away where Crowley couldn't spot him. For some reason.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called one last time, once the whole building had been thoroughly searched.

Useless.

He began to panic. Did something happen while he was gone? Something he wasn't around to prevent? Fuck, had Aziraphale been discorporated somehow? Or worse?

A moment of clarity broke through the encroaching darkness, and he managed to keep himself under control. He'd considered what to do in a situation like this after that 'thought my best friend got killed in the burning wreckage of his bookshop' thing. There were still things to try before jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

He pulled out his phone, and called up a special miraculous number he'd set up. It'd ring the closest phone to Aziraphale, any phone of any form. If he _at least_ heard it ring, then Aziraphale was alive and corporeal.

Thank _fuck_, it rang. Once, twice, three times, then an answer.

"Yeah, you've reached Hell, who's calling?" a slightly familiar voice asked upon picking up.

"...What in the fuck?" Crowley exclaimed in his surprise.

"_Who's calling?_" they repeated.

He'd never get to the bottom of things if he didn't respond to the question, he could tell already.

"Recently ex-demon, doesn't matter. Who are _you_ and why are you not Aziraphale?"

"Oh, looking for the new fellow, are you?"

He recognised the voice now. He was on the phone with the same demon as that morning.

"The _new fellow_? Wh- oh, for the love of- shit!"

"I'm assuming you want me to put him on the line?" the young demon asked.

"I- he-" Crowley stuttered. "_Shit_, yes, put me through to him, what's he doing down there with you?!"

He received no answer for a good minute or so, anxiously awaiting to hear his angel. But the sheer relief once he did...

"Hello?" Aziraphale's voice came clearly through the phone. "Um, who might this be?"

"_Jesus fuck_, angel," Crowley sighed. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear you talk."

"Oh! _Oh_? Oh, Crowley, dear, is that you? Oh, thank goodness, it's such an comfort to hear you, too!"

"Yes, it's me, you- ugh look, I got back to the bookshop and you weren't there, no note saying you went out or anything - what the _hell_ is going on?"

"Ah. Interesting wording you used, there - because, well, you see... I'm actually _in_ Hell right now."

"Yeah, I can tell that! Their bloody receptionist or whatever just put me through to you!"

"...Yes, that _would_ tip it off, hm?"

"Are you okay? What are they doing to you?"

"Don't worry, I'm just fine. I think. Um..." Aziraphale paused just long enough to cause concern for Crowley. "Long story short, I'm sort of in the middle of something. I'll explain later - be with you soon, love!"

When he'd finished speaking, Aziraphale quickly hung up, leaving Crowley confused, concerned, and just a bit lonely in the shop.

His string of "Shit, _shit, shit_\- what in the fuck-" that he spouted in his frustration went unheard.

Meanwhile, in Hell, Aziraphale placed the handset down on the rotary phone presented to him, and handed it back to the young demon beside him with an "Um... thankyou."

"Azzz I was saying, before we were interrupted," Beelzebub said. "You'll receive the first of your demonic duties in the near future."

Aziraphale nodded. "Right. I'll, um, keep an ear open."

"Always helps to have more people on board. Welcome, Aziraphale. Now," They gestured towards the door. "Run along. You'll be shown the way out."

He nodded again. And then, run along he did.

* * *

Crowley could've exploded with all the nervous energy inside him. Aziraphale had told him not to worry, but how was he supposed to not?! He was an _angel_, down in _Hell_ for some unknown reason. He considered that something to worry about.

He paced around the bookshop for minutes on end, fidgeting and tidying and fixing up things here and there around the shop, just to have _something_ to do while his head tortured him with possibilities.

At last, thank Go- Sa- well, actually, he was apparently an angel now, so perhaps he could switch up the language to the more commonly used stuff without gagging on names, now - thank God, Aziraphale finally returned.

"Crowley?" he called, making sure to miracle the door locked behind him as it closed this time. "Crowley, darling, are you still here?"

The ex-demon, who had been on the exact opposite side of the room, practically threw himself at the ex-angel to embrace him.

"Awh, fuck, Aziraphale," He pulled back momentarily to kiss him. "I thought I lost you again for a second there."

"Don't you worry, dear, I'm here." Aziraphale reassured with a soft smile and a chuckle, hugging him back. "Won't get rid of me _that_ easily!"

Crowley couldn't help but let out a small laugh of his own at that, and wrapped his arms tighter around the other being.

And then he noticed him wince when he ran his hands up Aziraphale's back.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, their levity immediately disappearing. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you down there?"

Aziraphale couldn't lie about it. "It only hurts a bit. And, no, it... it wasn't... entirely them? I'm not quite sure who oversees the, um... the wing stuff. And the pits aren't really a 'they', so... Never mind that, though - did they hurt _you_? I know how Hell can be."

Crowley shook his head. "Doesn't matter, what does matter is _how did they hurt you_?"

"Yes, it does matter, Crowley!" Aziraphale looked almost offended. "It's been a long, strange morning, and I love you, and I want to know you're okay!"

"I'm...! I'm fine, angel. No-one did anything to me."

Aziraphale frowned. Something was off. "Dear, what happened when you left?"

Crowley took a deep breath. "Well, uh... I was... informed that - you're never gonna believe this - um..."

The ex-angel took his hand in his own in an attempt at encouragement. It seemed to work.

"I'm... fuck, Aziraphale, I'm an angel again!"

Aziraphale blinked at him. "You're... what?"

"I know, it baffles me too! They just... pff... told me I'd been accepted into heaven!"

"Hmm... I see..." Aziraphale's mind had gone blank, zeroing in only on the new information.

"'S not really bad, or good, or anything really, is it? Just weird." Crowley thought aloud. "But we're... well, we're on our side anyway, but on a superficial level, hey! Same... usual, weird, _other_ binary side! Isn't that something?"

"Um... Yes, that surely is... something."

"Now, angel," Crowley continues, his face growing serious again. "What happened to _you_?"

Aziraphale gulped. "Well..." He went quiet for a few moments as he wondered how to break the news just after Crowley had managed to find the bright side of his own change. "In short, dear, you might have to find yourself another pet name for me. To replace _that_ one."

Crowley looked confused now. "Eh?"

"Because... 'angel' doesn't exactly fit anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do I know what I'm doing? absolutely not. never once in my almost 20 years on this earth have I known. thankyou for asking  
[come hang w/ me at my tumblr!](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/) <3


	3. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rly just black out and start writing and accept whatever comes out of that huh. oh well  
lmao enjoy <3

"They look like mine," Crowley mused from the seat across from Aziraphale's, forlornly admiring the other's unfurled wings and their new, shadowy look. "Well, how they _used_ to, just a little while earlier."

"I could say the same for yours." Aziraphale responded, regarding Crowley's wings similarly.

"If I didn't know better," Crowley continued. "I'd say they got switched around entirely. Only mine aren't _nearly_ this messy."

He went to adjust one of many out of place feathers on one of Aziraphale's wings - one that was particularly bugging him - grooming him like he knew the ang- hmn, _demon_ never did himself. He retracted his hand like it had been burned, though, when Aziraphale flinched at the touch, sucking in air through his teeth.

"Shit, sorry, babes, almost forgot." Crowley blurted out, panicked.

"It's alright." Aziraphale responded. "Mmh, they still sting _so much_."

"Yeah, they'll still be raw for a while. Couple days, at least. That was my experience, anyway."

"I see... How are yours? I'm sure they must feel different, somehow."

Crowley turned his attention inward, focusing on how his wings, with their new appearance, felt.

"Lighter, I suppose? Not too much, though, I really have to pay attention to notice it." He moved them then, slowly, gently, back and forth, testing their motion. "They're still the same, but... really slightly different."

Aziraphale hummed to himself at that. "Now, why does that sound familiar?"

The pair shared a chuckle, then the room fell into a comfortable quietness.

"You know," Aziraphale piped up at last. "I think they rather suit you, if I'm honest."

"I don't. The wing change was one of the upsides to my Fall, in my opinion." Crowley scoffed. "...You really think so?"

"Really and truly, my dear. They look nice on you."

The now-angel rolled his eyes. "'_Nice_'. What have we said about-" He cut himself off as a realisation hit him. "Awh, fuck, I'm supposed to be _nice_ now."

"Won't be too different from usual, then." Aziraphale teased.

"Oh, shut up, you."

"You can't say I'm wrong, though."

"I'm only interested in being nice to _you_. Not really the makings of anything angelic, I'd say."

"I've seen evidence that would disagree with that first statement, but to each their own, I suppose."

Crowley huffed, but didn't continue that line of conversation. "...Y'know, yours suit you, too. You look good with the black."

"Oh," Aziraphale's smirk shifted to a pleased smile. "Thankyou, darling. I must say, they _are_ growing on me. I wasn't so sure about the colour contrast, but having had another look at them... well, it's... what with how they remind me of yours, or, how they used to look..." He glanced back at the darkened wings. "...It feels like... having a part of you with me."

The angel blinked back at him, stuttering. His face became tinged with red.

"Sorry," Aziraphale said, waving a hand dismissively. "No, that's a bit silly, isn't it? That's the look of demon wings in general, not just yours. I've just... seen yours the most, so I associate the colour with you..."

"No, no!" Crowley suddenly protested. "That's... I wouldn't say it's silly. 'S... it's sweet, really. Thinking about it... uh, same here."

"Ah. Um. Good to hear." the demon said, then snickered and latched onto a new subject. "Don't go calling me sweet, now - I'm not supposed to be that anymore, am I?"

Crowley smiled back. "Don't you worry, ang- _oh, that's gonna get some taking used to_ \- don't worry, you're enough of a bastard to do the job."

The pair shared a quick laugh, then sat together quietly for a short minute, confirming to themselves their new situation and taking in the new images of eachother. It was Crowley who broke the silence.

"You wanna know something, 'Zira?"

Aziraphale gave a questioning look. "'Zira?"

"Uh... same syllable count as 'angel', I thought it'd be an alright replacement." Crowley explained. "Would you prefer I didn't use that?"

"No, that's alright - I like it! What were you going to say, dear?"

"Well... I think we're being fucked with."

"You do?"

"Think about it." Crowley said, sitting up straighter and crossing one leg over the other. "This whole thing came out of _nowhere_. It's been _months_ since the apocalypse business, we've been doing all this other shit that we're not supposed to do for _millennia_, and yet _now_ the big boss decides we're supposed to Fall and... Rise?"

Aziraphale nodded. "Yes, I questioned that as well."

"This isn't some slow bureaucratic paperwork bullshit finally going through, this is an order right from God, and I know damn well that kinda thing gets processed A-S-A-P. Someone, be it Her or someone else, is fucking with us."

"She _is_ quite prone to that."

"Prone to it. Ha!" Crowley shook his head. "That's all She does. Everything, from the beginning of time - tragedies, death, everything like that - all She does is fuck with everything and everyone on Earth. All part of her divine, ineffable, bullshit plan. And since we're apparently part of that plan..."

"...She's fucking with us, too." Aziraphale finished.

An amused smile grew on the angel's face at his partner's words. "Exactly."

* * *

**~Two Days Prior~**

An apartment block in an American town was burning. Flames consumed the building, lighting it up as a beacon in the dark night.

Residents of the flats - families, partners, roommates, and lone singular people of all kinds - fled from the collapsing building in fear, running for their lives and gathering across the road, watching on in horror as their homes were lost to them before their eyes, like the audience to their own personalised tragic play.

The sirens of a fire engine blared in the distance, growing closer. The shaken crowd failed to pay attention to them as they cried and checked on eachother's health, disbelieving of the upheaval of their normal lives.

A short distance from the devastated crowd, unseen and unknown to them, stood a demon. Even if the people could see them, they would have no idea of their demonic nature, and especially not of their status in Hell. They were the prince of Hell, Beelzebub, and while they weren't usually one for doing this kind of work themselves, they simply... felt like it tonight.

A young man had had a grudge against another man who lived on the second floor of the building. It had been easy for them to amplify the wrathful thoughts in his head and inspire him into committing a little arson. Then, all they had to do was stand back and watch as he carried out the crime and let his soul fall into Hell's hands.

They didn't even consider all the ill will that the incident would lead to. Ripples leading out in a pool of sin weren't a concept demons were generally interested in. There was point A and point B (the man's initial hate and the burning of the building, respectively) and that was it, in their eyes. If there was a point C, a point C.1, C.2, C.3, or more... well, there'd be more souls damned, but that was just a bonus on top of the single individual who had sinned.

There was one demon who planned elaborate damnations of throngs of souls, but those instances went generally unrecognised by his peers. And they all thought he was a bit of a prick.

Suddenly, Beelzebub felt something in the air that made them pull a face. Something... good.

"Now, that... Wow, that's terrible." came a familiar voice from beside them, in a fascinated tone unfitting of the words it spoke.

They looked over at the owner of the voice, confirming it was exactly who they thought it was. "Archangel Gabriel." They greeted coldly.

Gabriel nodded at the demon. "Beelzebub."

The pair had done business before, yes, for the trials of a certain other angel and demon, but they weren't friends of any kind, not even acquaintances, of course not.

Still, conversation about work wasn't out of the question. 

"What are you doing here, then?" Beelzebub asked, still looking at the scene before them rather than the angel they were talking to.

"Isn't it obvious?" Gabriel replied. "I'm here to influence a few thoughts into being pure. Maybe let these folks have a little miracle or two in this dark hour."

The angel gestured to a woman at the edge of the crowd who was kneeling on the floor in front of a small, unconscious child, and crying hysterically as she and a few people around her tried all they could to wake him.

"Her, over there. Did you see the little guy who got stuck under that chunk of fallen ceiling in there? That's his mother."

"Yes, I'd noticed. What about them?" Beelzebub asked.

"He's not gonna make it. His little four-year-old lungs aren't going to be able to handle the smoke that he breathed in. He'll be dead by the morning. But that lady? She's going to become incredibly charitable after this. She'll go on to care for others as best as she can now that she can't care for her own child anymore."

"Well then. We'll have to put special attention on her to win her over to our side. Thanks for the information."

Gabriel sighed, hoping the woman would resist Hell's temptations.

"Hey," he piped up after a few moments of silence, changing the topic. "Unrelated, but... I've been meaning to ask, how'd that trial with your traitor go?"

"Crowley?" the demon responded in surprise. "Not exactly as planned. He wriggled his way out of execution. Somehow."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Yours too?"

"Yes. I'd ask if you sent down faulty holy water, but we tested for that while we were there."

"Faulty? Of course not! We upstairs are true to our word." There was a beat as a thought hit him. "Wait, you're not bringing that up because you sent us faulty hellfire, are you?"

"Would you like me to give you a personal demonstration of just how functional our hellfire is?"

"Okay, okay, no, I get it, it was functioning properly."

"Either way, they're immune to our tools of destruction against them, and they got off scot-free." Beelzebub folded their arms. "At least Crowley barely comes around anymore. Can't stand the bastard."

"If I'm honest-" Gabriel shrugged. "And so I should be, I'm an angel - what is it the humans are saying these days? Ah. 'Big mood'. The biggest. In regards to Aziraphale, of course."

"Hm. Crowley's obviously more annoying, though."

Gabriel snorted at the idea. "I beg to differ. You've obviously never worked with Aziraphale."

"I haven't, no, but he can't be any worse than that bugger with his sunglasses."

"_Sure_." the archangel said, dripping with sarcasm.

The fire engine arrived, at last, and the firefighters quickly set about putting out the fire, checking with the residents to see if there was anyone inside who needed rescue.

The flames soon began their slow descent into extinguishment, dimming slightly with every gallon of water being shot at it. It still raged on, though, as did the firefighters' attempts to quell it.

"Oh!" Gabriel exclaimed with a clap of his hands. His face brightened, and he looked to Beelzebub. "Oh, I just had a fantastic idea!"

Beelzebub looked at him inquisitively. "What?"

"Okay, well. You and the rest of Hell - you don't like Crowley."

"We're positively sick of him downstairs, yes."

"And we don't like Aziraphale."

"Yes, I've gleaned that from what I've seen and heard."

"And we both think our side's respective traitor is worse than the other."

"What's your point, Gabriel?"

"Okay, hear me out here - there's a way we can test how you and I handle Aziraphale and Crowley respectively, _and_ at the same time, we get to... give them some holy and demonic retribution."

Beelzebub cocked a brow. "I'm listening."

"...What if we asked the Almighty to switch their roles around?"

"...You _what_?"

"Aziraphale becomes a demon, Crowley becomes an angel. Simple!"

"And how, exactly, is this 'holy and demonic retribution' for the two of them, aside from having an angel Fall?"

"Alright, I'll admit, it's really just messing with them... but without being able to kill them, it'll be the best way to throw them for a loop. It'll mess with them, at the very least, and if it does more than that? Even better. And it'll settle our little debate, won't it?"

Beelzebub pondered over the suggestion for a moment. Any slight against Crowley that they could get was a good one, and seeing what that Aziraphale fellow was like as a colleague _did_ intrigue them...

They'd be proven right within the week, and Crowley would be out of their hair forever, they reasoned. And that just couldn't be passed up.

"Alright." Beelzebub shrugged. "Yeah, let's try it. Let's see what She says."

Gabriel smirked, and looked back at the building, still currently locked in its equilibrium of fire and water. "This'll be interesting."

* * *

**~Present Day~**

"You don't think it's too much blasphemy to be saying all that, do you? For someone who's recently found themselves being an angel again?" Aziraphale questioned.

"Nah," Crowley answered. "And even if it was, 'm sure there's some sort of... grace period, for that kind of thing. Y'know, let me adjust to the position before punishing me for still acting out against Her."

"Hm... I'd hope so."

"Even if there weren't," he continued, shrugging. "What's another Fall to someone who already Fell?"

"Oh, _don't_, dear." Aziraphale said with a frown. "I know what that experience is like, now, and I wouldn't wish it on anybody _once_, let alone _two_ separate times! Especially not you."

"Ange- mph, Zira, don't worry, I'd be fine with a second go with it. Least I'd know what to expect this time."

"But you'd still get hurt again. And I... I couldn't bear that, Crowley."

Crowley sighed, and placed a comforting hand atop one of Aziraphale's own. "'S fine, love, I'll be fine. I'm not gonna Fall again."

Aziraphale took pause at the assertion. "...You can't know you won't, though."

"Maybe I can't," the angel responded. "But I promise, I'll be fine either way. It can't hurt more than knowing you've been through it too."

After another moment of hesitation, the demon sighed. "...Alright. If you promise."

"I do. Long as you're with me, and you're okay - well, as okay as you can be, given the circumstances... then I'll be just fine, love. _Promise_."

Crowley leaned over then, and gently kissed his lover's cheek. Aziraphale's face softened, a small smile growing on him, and he reciprocated the action.

"Anyway," Crowley piped up through the quiet that had overtaken the room, giving Aziraphale's hand a light, affectionate squeeze and patting it. "Enough of all that. I think we've had our fill of worrying for the day - and it's barely eleven yet."

"Right. Yes." Aziraphale sighed. "So... what now?"

Crowley thought for a moment. "Well, first off... I wanna get some more answers. Something, _anything_ to explain all this shit."

"Hm. Our bosses didn't exactly give us clear reasons to why this is happening - if they even know themselves." The demon glanced upward as a thought came to him, then looked out into the bookshop, to a particular rug on the floor. "Should we perhaps... try getting information directly from the best source?"

"Best?" Crowley asked. He followed where Aziraphale's eyes went, then looked back to him.

"Well, She _is_ omniscient. And it was Her decision." Aziraphale's gaze met Crowley's own again, and he shrugged. "It's worth a shot, at least."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. as I mentioned before this is the last chapter I had pre-prepared for now so the regular 3-day breaks between updates will almost definitely get longer. last warning for that just in case.
> 
> [come talk to me on tumblr](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/) about like our favourite idiot angel/demon duo or smth!


	4. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this to be longer and to get it posted quicker but fdgkjgdkhkfjasdfl  
hey back again folks hope you like this one uwu

**~One Day Prior~**

"You done it yet, then?" Beelzebub asked, looking not at the archangel they were addressing, but instead at the young man on the opposite side of the park. 

The young man, to anyone who was actively looking, was obviously eyeing up the unwatched handbag of a woman who was sat on a nearby bench and playing with her baby in the pram next to her.

"Yup." Gabriel responded from the opposite end of the bench the supernatural pair were sat at themselves. "The Almighty has been informed - now all there is to do is wait for some news on a decision."

"How long?" the demon asked as they put some demonic influence into the man they were watching, subconsciously tempting him into thievery.

The angel noticed their actions, and tried to influence him into doing good instead. Thou shalt not steal, of course. "What, how long to wait?"

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. "_No, how long until you finally discorporate me with your stupid questionzzz_? Of course, yes, how long are we gonna have to wait for?"

"It shouldn't take too long. And with those two's actions, and the weight of them? My best guess is that it's gonna be a 'yes', and very soon."

"Right. Good." They swayed the human into thinking evil thoughts again.

"Y'know," Gabriel said, reversing Beelzebub's action again. "I've gotta say, I'm pretty ex- well, not _excited_ \- pretty... _interested_, I guess, in seeing what it's going to be like to have Crowley back upstairs."

The fight for the man's soul continued in the background as the pair talked, angel and demon both subtly shifting his handbag-based desires back and forth.

"You forgotten what it's like working with him?"

"We were in different departments when he was around. And it _was_, well, _forever_ ago. Literally, pretty much. I didn't get too much of a read on him back then."

"Fair."

"Hm. You haven't properly met Aziraphale yet, have you?

Beelzebub thought to themself for a moment. "He's the posh fellow who was there at the air base, yes? White hair, standing around all... disgustingly angelic? Sticking by Crowley's side like he'd discorporate if he didn't? Went on about the ineffable plan?"

"Yup." Gabriel exhaled. "That's the guy."

"Hm, no. I wouldn't say that was a 'meeting'."

The angel chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a real blast if and when you're introduced."

The man in the near distance decided against stealing the bag. Then looked at the woman's expensive-looking clothes and jewelery. Then asked himself what his mother would think. Then asked himself how much that would matter if he made sure nobody found out.

"I really am looking forward to this little experiment. I think it's gonna go great!" Gabriel smiled self-assuredly, then his expression became tinged with concern after a moment. "Unless they decide to come after us."

Beelzebub glanced at him for the first time that day. "What?"

"I mean, they've got their resistance to the only weapons we've got against them... If they flip and do something drastic..." He trailed off, instead finishing his point with a hand gesture that left the demon to their own guess as to what would happen to the pair of them.

Beelzebub shrugged. "It'll be fine, so long it came straight from God. Or at least, if it seems to them to be that way. They're not gonna attack us if they don't think we're to blame."

Gabriel hummed to himself thoughtfully and nodded. "True. Very true."

The pair never did find out where the man's soul would eventually go. They left before he could make a definite decision on the handbag matter. To see that decision in action would've required a longer conversation with eachother than they should be having. Or, _obviously_, than they _wanted_ to be having.

* * *

**~Present day~**

"Now, last time I did this, it... didn't go amazingly, to say the very least." Aziraphale said, lighting up the final candle around the chalk circle on the floor.

"How so?" Crowley asked. He was leaning against a nearby shelf, and had watched Aziraphale the whole time as the demon had methodically set up the entire scene before them.

Aziraphale shook out the match he'd just been using. "I think I may have forgotten to mention that this is how I got discorporated on the day of the apocalypse."

Crowley cocked a brow and gestured towards the circle. "You were silly enough to step inside?"

"It wasn't on purpose." Aziraphale pouted. "Sergeant Shadwell had snuck in, and you know how he is about supernatural concepts. Things happened."

"What, and then he burned the place down?"

"Oh, I'm sure that was an accident, too. He's an odd man, but not spiteful." Aziraphale paused. "Well, I can't be _sure_, but I wouldn't think he'd do something like that."

"Hm." Crowley folded his arms. "I'll be having words with him later."

"Anyway," the demon continued. "_That_ happened, and I hadn't even had the conversation I wanted beforehand. So, fair warning, it's a bit of a coin flip as to whether we'll get anything out of Her. Or, rather, the Metatron - it's more likely they'll answer instead."

The angel nodded. "Yep, that's one thing I remember from having this job before."

Aziraphale placed the box of matches aside, then stood up straight beside the circle and put his hands together, closing his eyes.

"Hello?" he spoke to the empty air in front of him. "This is the principality - um, ex-principality now, I suppose, Aziraphale, speaking. I'm looking to talk to a higher authority. Once again. The highest, please."

There was no response. Fine; Aziraphale hadn't expected an answer after the first try anyway.

He continued. "I'd like to pose some questions to the Almighty. This is rather important to us, so I'd prefer a response sooner rather than later."

Nothing. The pair in the room glanced at eachother for a second.

"Could I... perhaps get a sign that She is listening? Anything?"

Still nothing. He carried on, agitation clear in his voice.

"Look, I know She's decided that... that I'm not worthy of my old spot in Heaven anymore, but... surely we can still communicate, can't we?"

Crowley's attention was caught by the demon's last plea. "Wait." he piped up.

"Hmm?" Aziraphale looked at the angel. "What's the matter, dear?"

"...I was never able to get in contact with Heaven after I Fell. Any time I tried talking to Her... I don't know if She ever listened. Certainly never responded."

Aziraphale frowned as he processed Crowley's statement. "...I've been cut off."

"'Fraid so."

"Well. That throws a wrench in that plan."

Of course, Aziraphale thought, he should've expected this. He'd been cast out - why would he be listened to now? Only an _angel_ could-

...Now, there was an idea.

Aziraphale perked up again. "Oh!"

Crowley tilted his head in interest. "Oh?"

"What if you tried it? You're an angel again - of course, how could it slip my mind - wouldn't you be allowed a response?"

"Hm." The angel thought to himself. "I s'pose so."

Aziraphale stepped aside, and gestured towards the circle. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"Pff... alright." Crowley moved forward into the spot where his partner had been, and closed his eyes. "Wow, 's been a while since I've done this and not just... complained at the ceiling instead."

He took a deep breath and put his hands together. "Um... I, uh... y..." he stuttered, figuring out how to reach out to Her again. "...Hi? 'S me again. Crowley. So... look, I've got some questions for God? Yeah, I know, that's how I got kicked out in the first place, but, uh... different kind of questions this time."

"_That's_ how you're going about it?" Aziraphale asked incredulously.

Crowley gave him a nonplussed look. "Gimme a break, Zira, last time I thought I might actually be listened to was millennia ago. I've still got to get into the swing of it again."

The circle lit up, then. Not just lit by the candles around it, instead it now glowed with ethereal light - both from itself and from a beam cast on it from above. The pair jumped, startled at the sudden presence making itself clearly known, and stepped back a bit to fully take in the sight. A voice, echoing and authoritative, came from the column of light.

"Speak, Crowley."

"_Ah, fuck me_," the angel nervously mumbled to himself before clearing his throat. "Uh, hi. Is... is this God?"

"I am the Metatron, the voice of the Almighty."

"Right, okay."

Aziraphale and Crowley gave eachother a look, as if to say _of course this would end up being the case_.

"So, can I..." Crowley shrugged. "Ask a few questions?"

"You may." the Metatron responded simply.

"Okay, um, first off... _why_? What's with this? why am I an angel again? Why's Aziraphale a demon?"

"It has been brought to the Almighty's attention that the two of you would be more suited to these positions. You, Crowley, have performed so many good deeds without prompting, and Aziraphale so many bad ones, that She chose to redeem you, and cast out the former angel."

The angel cocked an eyebrow. "So does that mean it's got nothing to do with the whole apocalypse thing?"

"Your roles in averting armageddon have played a part in it, yes - but She has found enough goodness and sinfulness in your souls that She has decided this shall be so."

"Okay, disregarding the armageddon bit," Crowley continued, crossing his arms and attempting to keep some semblance of calmness about himself. "Why's this being done now? Did we not already have enough 'goodness and sinfulness' in us beforehand? 'S not like armageddon changed us any in that regard."

"Because She decided upon this course of action after that information was brought to Her attention. The Almighty knows all, but many things go less noticed than others by Her."

"That's-" Crowley interrupted himself before he could convey his real thoughts on the explanation and sighed. "Right. Yeah, alright."

"Do you have any other questions, Crowley?"

"Uh..."

He turned to Aziraphale, mouthing '_You got any_?' at him.

The demon shook his head. "We got what we came for, really, didn't we?" he whispered.

Crowley nodded and turned back to the Metatron. "Nah, no, that's... that's it for now, I guess."

"Hm. Well, you are always free to contact us again."

"Right." Crowley said, giving a languid thumbs up. "Gotcha."

With that, the light quickly faded, and the glow of the circle disappeared. The pair still standing there looked on in silence until they were sure the means of communication had closed up.

"Well," Aziraphale spoke at last. "That certainly went better than last time."

Crowley snorted. "Well, yeah, I haven't been left here thinking you're dead this time."

Aziraphale bristled as he recalled stumbling across Crowley in that pub after discorporating, with _that look_ on his face and _that pain_ in his voice. "I really am sorry about that one, dear. I can't imagine how worried you must have been before I found you."

"Never you mind that, Zira. 'S all good now." Crowley said, extinguishing the candles on the floor with a snap of his fingers. Best not to risk the _other_ thing that happened that day. "Anyway, that does clear up a few things, I suppose."

"Which things?"

"Well, we're _definitely_ being fucked with, for one. 'Brought to Her attention' - you know what they meant by that, don't you?"

"Hm. Someone's made an... HR complaint."

Crowley nodded. "Heaven and-slash-or Hell are doing some kind of shit to spite us, and She's," He pointed upwards. "Entirely down for it."

"Well, then." Aziraphale responded, setting about clearing up the candles. "I'm sure I can guess, but... what do you suggest we should do next?"

"Aside from wait around for them to give us stuff to do?" Crowley grinned. "I say we fuck with 'em right back."

Aziraphale smiled back. "I knew you'd say that."

"You know me too well, babes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang w/ me on [my tumblr](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/) and ask me about my experience of watching gomens all the way through twice in one day a few days ago B)


	5. Redecorating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again lads  
it's 3.30am pls excuse any missed mistakes I'm fallin asleep here  
as always, enjoy <3

It was barely a day later that Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves back at their new workplaces.

Aziraphale, down in Hell, stood before a demon who'd been introduced to him as Hastur, one of the dukes of Hell. He'd frowned upon hearing the name - Crowley had put in a fair few bad words about this Hastur fellow on several occasions.

He thought to himself, _this situation is... mightily unsettling, for someone who was an angel not twenty-four hours ago_. He would've said it aloud, would it not have uncovered the body-switching ruse he and Crowley had pulled off some months before.

He was looking at a collumn of fire that stood between him and the other demon, a swirling spire of hellish flames that licked upwards in a contained, but uneven, circle.

"What's..." Aziraphale asked, gesturing to the hellfire. "...all this about, then?"

"It's a test." Hastur replied. "The wings are a good indicator, but just to make sure you're _really_ a demon now..." He nodded towards the fire. "Resistance to hellfire is always the best test of your demonic essence."

Aziraphale tried to hide how he gulped as Hastur said that. "Were you... were you not informed that I'm already resistant to hellfire? One of your- _our_ people was sent all the way upstairs to execute me with it. And, well, obviously, it didn't work."

"We know. It's just... a precautionary measure. Wouldn't be right to have an angel walking about the place."

"And if... if I _am_ still angelic?"

Hastur smiled a wicked smile. "Then there's one less bloody angel around, isn't there?"

"Ah. Right." Aziraphale clasped his hands together to cease their shaking. "Well, lucky for me that I'm resistant either way, eh? As an angel _or_ a demon!" He smiled back, his nervousness apparent despite his efforts. "Are you, um... are you _definitely_ sure this is necessary?"

Hastur returned none of the falsified mirth in Aziraphale's expression. "Just get in the fire."

Aziraphale looked at the fire, then back at Hastur, then at the fire again. Its mere presence felt like an unspoken threat to him, even with his newly assigned role. Millennia of fearing the unholy flames in front of him hadn't disappeared in just under a day.

He prayed, just a bit, knowing full well now that God was not listening and despite his own displeasure at being a newly-appointed demon, that his Fall had indeed happened correctly.

One tentative step closer towards the hellfire. Then two. Then a third. And then he was within arm's distance of the fire. He exhaled a shaky breath. _Here goes nothing_, he thought, steeling himself.

He raised an arm, and slowly reached out towards the pillar of fire. His forearm was swallowed by the flames, and they danced around the limb as the fire flickered. He was surprised to find that he didn't feel a thing - not pain, not burning, not even the slightest radiating warmth from it. He turned over his hand a few times, inspecting it, as if waiting for something terrible to happen to it.

After a few seconds of that, though, Hastur intervened, pushing him in with a "Get on with it already, would you?"

Panic struck him as the flames engulfed him entirely - however, it faded, for the most part, just a few moments later, when it sank in that the fire was doing nothing to him.

He quickly got accustomed to the fire, even if the heart his corporeal form possessed was still racing at a mile a minute. It was almost... pretty, in a way? 

_Like Crowley's lovely hair_, he thought with a sigh and a small smile, _bright and bursting with oranges and reds - not nearly as nice to run my hands through, not soft or smooth at all, but still, it's almost familiar. Oh, I'm ever so glad he's been growing it out again, I simply can't wait until it's long enough to-_

"Alright, you're immune." Hastur spoke up, interrupting Aziraphale's train of thought. "That's all we're here for. I'm off."

Through the flames, Aziraphale saw the other demon leave without another word spoken. He thought it rather sudden, but quickly also then thought that a fair few things had happened rather suddenly since yesterday.

After that, the fire died down and snuffed itself out at his feet, and one more thought came to mind: Crowley had been summoned, too - how was he faring right now?

* * *

"Oi, _oi_! Piss off, don't you dare," Crowley spat, backing off from Sandalphon, who'd stepped towards him with a stepping stool in one hand and an oversized pitcher of holy water in the other. "I am _not_ agreeing to this."

"Language, Crowley." Gabriel chided - like he hadn't called himself '_The Archangel Fucking Gabriel_' right in front of Crowley (even if he'd thought the ex-demon was Aziraphale at the time). "Look, it's just a safety precaution. We just have to check for any demonic essence we can't otherwise detect. Maybe dissolve it in the process."

Sandalphon placed the stool down beside Crowley and stepped up on it, readying the pitcher in his hands.

"Piss. Off." Crowley repeated.

He backed away further, but caught wind of a miracle happening, and suddenly Sandalphon was following him yet still standing in place, with the stool sliding around the floor wherever he went.

"_Fuck's sake,_" he mumbled under his breath.

"Just do it," Gabriel said to Sandalphon. "Obviously he'd rather make this harder than it has to be."

"Right-o." Sandalphon replied, nodding.

And with that, the archangel tipped up the pitcher, and the holy water inside began pouring over the lip and onto Crowley.

Crowley braced himself as best he could in the half-second between the water leaving the jug and splashing onto his head. He panicked just a little in that time - it had been a long, long time since he could safely touch the stuff, of course - and tensed up when it hit him. Nothing bad he might've been expecting happened, however.

Nothing except him getting rather wet, that is.

He grimaced, feeling the water run down over him from tip to toe, soaking his hair and clothes and his entire self like the world's most ridiculous, uncomfortable shower.

"_Alright_," he hissed. He looked up at the pitcher held above his head - it was empty, at a glance, but continued pouring water anyway. "That's _enough_, don't you- phhblt, pff, don't you think?"

Sandalphon looked at Gabriel, nodding towards Crowley with a questioning look, not ceasing his pouring just yet.

Gabriel nodded in turn, holding up a hand to say 'hold on'. "Give it a few more seconds, Sandalphon. Just to be sure."

He did, then he stopped pouring at last and stepped back off the stool.

Crowley couldn't see himself, or much else, with how his wet hair had fallen into his face, but he could tell he looked like a drowned rat.

"Great." he huffed, letting his sudden burst of anxiety show as a fit of frustration instead. "Now I'm all wet. Thanks, guys. You know that was pointless, right? You already bloody well know I'm... y'know, immune to holy water, don't you? Especially Michael, they saw me in that bath at my trial. _Bastards_."

"Like I said, we just had to make sure you're really an angel. And now we've made sure."

"Great. _Fantastic_. I'm off, then."

Crowley had made himself scarce before either of the archangels with him could respond. Anything they had to say, he wasn't interested in hearing.

* * *

"Zira, _look_ at what they did to me up there." a very upset, very wet Crowley said as he stepped through the door to a particular bookshop.

"What?" Aziraphale asked, looking up from the book he was reading, concerned. The worry in his eyes disappeared, though, replaced with panic, when he saw the angel making his way through the shop, over to him.. "Crowley, no! Stop right there, you'll drip all over the floor!"

Crowley rolled his eyes and stopped in place, then snapped his fingers, and the excess water vanished from his form. "You saw that, right?" he asked, walking forward again.

Aziraphale hummed in affirmation. "What on Earth happened up there?"

"They went and doused me in holy water, that's what happened." Crowley gave just enough warning to his partner for him to lift his book from his lap before collapsing across the spot where it had been, throwing his legs over one arm of the chair and leaning his head back on the other. "I told them! I said hey, are you just forgetting that trial Hell gave me- well, _you_, but _me_ \- y'know, what's the point of testing if the stuff'll hurt me when that already happened?"

The demon placed his book down on a nearby table and stroked his angel's hair, curling a lock around a finger on one of his newly-free hands. "Not to make light of your frustrations, darling, but the coincidence is rather amusing - that's almost _exactly_ what happened to me downstairs." he chuckled. "Except, with hellfire. Hm. Are you quite alright?"

"Yeah, 'm fine." Crowley exhaled. "Got myself a bit worked up while I was there. 'S easy to forget I'm an angel again now, and I'm not gonna die from a bit of... stupid blessed water... are _you_ okay?"

"Just fine, dear." Aziraphale assured. "Had a bit of a similar scare myself. Too much hellfire for my liking, personally. Nothing happened, obviously, definitely seems I'm one hundred percent demon now. I should've guessed that - as should Hell, I would think - but still, I had my worries."

Crowley sighed again, removing his shades and holding Aziraphale's free hand in his own. "You still up for the thing we planned for today?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'm all for it. You?"

"Definitely."

* * *

_Operation: Annoy Heaven And Hell Enough To Make Them Regret Their Meddling_ was a go.

Crowley had looked over the items he was holding once more before heading into heaven. Posters? Check. Big brush? Check. Bucket of wallpaper paste? Check.

For the hour since then, he'd gotten to work slathering the paste on various areas of Heaven's walls and slapping the posters he'd created on top. Currently, he was smoothing out the bubbles from one that read "_Don't forget - She's always watching! (Watching closely for any disobedience to punish you for, that is!)_". A cartoon angel - the type humans usually think of when they hear the term, that children dress up as for nativity plays, with white flowing robes, long blonde curls, a bright yellow halo, and a long, silly trumpet in their hands - smiled widely, to a purposefully unsettling extent, back at him from the poster.

He stood back, at last, and admired his handiwork. Just as with all the other posters he'd put up, the wall around it was as much of a mess as he could make it, excess paste dripping on the floor, and the colours of the poster stood out _just right_ against the pristine walls, perfectly poised to catch the eye of any passing angel.

And catch angels' eyes they did. Plenty of heads were turned in Crowley's direction while he worked, and he could practically feel their eyes in the near distance squinting as they read the slogans on the paper. One angel had even come over and curiously asked about it.

"'_Watching closely for_'... What's all this about?" the unfamiliar angel had asked, interest plastered across his face.

"And you are?" Crowley questioned in return.

"Ah! Sorry," The angel shot him a smile, then reached out a hand to shake - which was lowered after a dismissive wave from Crowley. "Ithuriel. Hi there."

"Yeah. Hey. Crowley. Nice to meet you."

Ithuriel looked him over with surprise. "Oh! Crowley! So _you're_ the guy some of the other angels have been talking about?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I'm being talked about?"

"Yeah, just saying stuff about how they're surprised to see you up here again. Can't really relate, though, I didn't really know who you were. Wasn't around before you... uh... y'know..."

Ithuriel finished his sentence with a falling whistle and a finger pointed downwards, to indicate the ex-demon's Fall.

"And you weren't exactly the subject of a lot of conversations after that. I'm sure you could've guessed that, though."

"Right." Crowley nodded.

"So, uh," Ithuriel gestured to the wall. "What's the poster for?"

"Oh," Crowley shrugged in response and shot the other angel a mischievous smile. "Just decorating the place with a few friendly reminders so no-one ends up like me."

Ithuriel glanced at the poster, then looked back to Crowley. "Doesn't seem very friendly to me."

"Well, yeah. I suppose it's more of a warning, really."

Ithuriel hummed at that. "That only seems right. If I'm honest..." He cut himself off and continued speaking in a hushed tone. "If I'm honest, it's not like anyone around here deserves anything friendly anyhow."

Crowley looked at him in pleasant surprise. "Oh yeah?"

He nodded. "Can I say something? Without you telling anyone? It's just... with your, uh, background, it doesn't feel like you're gonna tell on me."

"'Course. Say away."

The younger angel leaned closer to the other so he could whisper. "I don't like _anybody_ here. Like, at all. Everyone's so _uptight_ and I'm getting _really_ tired of it."

"Really?"

Ithuriel nodded.

"Well," Crowley mused. "That wasn't what I was expecting to hear."

"And you won't tell anyone, right?" Ithuriel asked again. "Everyone already thinks of me as a pretty rubbish angel with all my, uh... indulging, and stuff. I could do without adding fuel to that fire."

"Oh, don't you worry, your secrets are safe with me. I actually think all these other angels are assholes myself, too."

"Ah, good to know." Ithuriel said with a relieved sigh, louder again but still hushed. "Y'know, you're alright for a demon. _Shi_\- _sugar_, I mean... ex-demon. Though, the only other demon I've talked to is pretty cool, too, so... I dunno, really."

"Hm? Is that so?"

"Yeah. Oh, uh... could you not mention that bit, either?"

"Like I said, mate," Crowley assured, patting Ithuriel on the shoulder. "Your secrets are safe with me. I'm not gonna rat out the only other angel I could have a good complain about Heaven with, so-"

"_Crowley_."

Gabriel's interrupting voice seemed to come entirely out of nowhere, until the pair saw the archangel approaching, looking fairly unimpressed.

"Alright, off you trot." Crowley told Ithuriel, his mischievous smile returning. "Unless you wanna see if there's some fireworks in store for me for this poster thing I've been doing."

Ithuriel stepped away, but stayed just in earshot of the conversation about to happen.

"Crowley," Gabriel repeated, holding up a number of torn sheets of paper. "What's this?"

The papers in question were some of Crowley's numerous other posters. The one he could see read "_Questioning Her is questioning whether you really want to be here!_" with another widely smiling, out-of-date angel beneath the words. It, like the others, was torn in such a way that Crowley could tell from just a glance that Gabriel had struggled to take it off the wall in one piece thanks to his choice of adhesive. He couldn't wait to see the mess of scraps that'd be left behind.

Gabriel pointed to the poster on the wall in front of them. "And that?"

"This?" Crowley asked, gesturing to the same spot. "Well, thought I'd do some redecorating."

"With these posters." Gabriel said incredulously.

"_Motivational_ posters." Crowley corrected. "You know how tetchy God can be - I thought they'd be a good reminder for anyone who's, ooh... considering thinking for themselves?"

"And so you thought that," Gabriel leafed through the posters in his hand. "'_A Foot Out Of Line Is A Foot Down There_' and '_Th__ou Shalt Not Go Against The Arbitrary Grain_' were good slogans for that purpose?"

Crowley could feel the irritation radiating off Gabriel. And he was enjoying it immensely. "What, you don't think they'll work?"

Gabriel took a deep breath. "I think that they're... aggressive."

"Well, I did get the idea from Hell. Y'know, that place down there that I spent all that time after She kicked me out? They're not really known for being pleasant to anyone downstairs. We- _they_ aren't really ones for avoiding aggression."

Gabriel, with a barely-restrained sigh, stepped forward and, with some struggling, took down the poster, then handed all the ones he was holding over to Crowley.

"You're gonna fix all these messes." he said, gesturing to the wall again. "You got that?"

Crowley looked away, disinterested. "Yeah, sure, alright."

"Good. Get to it, then."

Gabriel disappeared after that, and Crowley turned to Ithuriel with a smirk.

Ithuriel understood his expression immediately, and smirked back as he spoke up again. "You're not gonna fix them, are you?"

"Oh, _of course_ I am!" Crowley replied. "What kind of angel do you think I am?"

Ithuriel was confused for a moment. Then, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the '_She's always watching!_' poster returned to where it had been before, with the rest of the sheets of paper in his arms disappearing with it. And then he understood, even before Crowley began to explain.

"Did you _see_ the scrappy papery shit Gabe left behind? What a complete mess. And now it's fixed. All the posters are in one piece again, all back in their places."

The young angel thought to himself for a second. "Do you think it could be _fixed_ even more?"

"Hm. Good idea!"

Crowley snapped his fingers again, and suddenly the walls had posters galore covering them - the windows even had a fair few on them now. He looked around, and chuckled at the sight of all the sarcastic lines he'd come up with all over the walls.

"A _fantastic_ idea, Ithuriel."

* * *

At the same time, Aziraphale was down in Hell, carrying out his own part of their plan.

The dark, dingy offices of Hell were a bit brighter today. Not too much brighter - a little more than, say, a certain bookshop in London that had opened in the 1800s, still somehow in business despite never seeming to allow a single book to be sold. And that was just the first of a few changes that had come about in the demonic depths today.

There were plenty of books around that hadn't been there a few hours earlier, for one. They were stacked in waist-high piles in the most deliberately inconvenient spots possible, and were laced with a special demonic miracle so that they couldn't be purposefully moved by anyone other than Aziraphale, but _could_ be knocked over by accident if they were bumped into or tripped on, cluttering up the floor with further tripping hazards.

Alongside the books, which a handful of demons had already tripped over by now, and the newfound brightness, which had a fair few demons squinting uncomfortably as they went about their days.

There was just one more finishing touch Aziraphale had to add.

He set the CD player that Crowley had so kindly provided him with on top of one of the book piles, and looked at the sticky labels the angel had put on it to instruct him with.

'_cd's already in_'

'_don't touch any of these buttons -->_'

'_press this one to play it -->_'

'_this one to pause it if you so need -->_'

'_these ones for volume_

_up -->_

_down -->_'

'_and have fun love x_'

Aziraphale's finger hovered over the play button as he readied himself. He wasn't looking forward to what he was about to do. The action itself, that is - the aftermath would be fun. Probably. He grimaced and pressed play, and the speakers blared.

"_The hills are alive, with the sound of music~_"

He turned the volume up a few notches, letting the music echo through the place.

"What the fuck?" came a voice from an unseen owner.

Said owner appeared shortly after, stepping into the room with Aziraphale, visibly annoyed.

"Oi, turn that shit off, would you?!" they yelled over the music.

Aziraphale smiled innocently. "Pardon? I'm afraid I can't hear you!"

"I said," they called louder. "TURN THAT SHIT OFF!"

"Do what?" Aziraphale asked, trying not to giggle. "_Learn_...? No... Burn... something?"

"_TURN THE BLOODY MUSIC OFF!_"

"Oh! The music! So sorry!"

Aziraphale hit pause, then smiled back at the demon in front of him.

They squinted at him, giving him a look over, then nodded in realisation. "Ah. Should've known it'd be the _new guy_ blasting Heaven's favourite hits." they said with a scowl, crossing their arms. "And fucking with the decor."

He pouted. "Well, I can't be expected to come down here and _not_ make it feel more... like my own space." _With the unfortunate addition of the soundtrack to annoy everyone_, he didn't add.

"...Are you joking?" they asked incredulously.

"If I'm wanted here in Hell so much that I'm forced to Fall," Aziraphale argued. "Then Hell had darn well better _accommodate_."

The other demon sighed. "Look, I know you just got here, but-"

"Oh!" Aziraphale interrupted as any mischievousness shoved itself into the back of his mind. "Oh, I know you! You handed me that telephone when I first came here!"

"Uh... yeah." they replied. "Rozzen's the name. Not that I want to end up talking to you long enough in future that you'll need to use it."

"Lovely to meet you properly, Rozzen. I'm Aziraph-"

"Yes, yes, I know who you are." Rozzen interrupted right back. "Heard our _favourite_ traitor asking for an Aziraphale when you'd got here."

"Oh - you mean Crowley?"

"Yeah, him." they said, then paused, thinking. "Y'know, I almost think I'm gonna miss the bastard. His work ethic was terrible, but he got shit done. Somehow. And made it sort of interesting, too, I guess. His files are pretty spectacular."

"Yes, I _have_ found that he has the tendency to make things more interesting." Aziraphale chuckled. "For better or worse."

Rozzen went quiet and began to fidget, rapping their fingers against their crossed arms. They bit their lip as they thought further, and Aziraphale almost spoke up again to end the newfound silence, but they broke it themselves. 

"So... I know you've only been a demon for a day, but I wanna ask... what's it like having someone from the, uh, the... _opposition_... as, y'know, a boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Aziraphale chuckled again, a faint blush rising to his cheeks this time.

Rozzen huffed. "Human terminology, it's- it's just easier. I've heard how much you two like your... Earthly stuff."

"Well, um... I don't know if we're quantifying our relationship exactly like that - we haven't actually discussed at all what we're calling eachother, now that I think about it-"

"Whatever!" Rozzen snapped. "What's it _like_? Being with the enemy, and not having to... give a shit about it?"

"...Wait, is our being an item really such common knowledge here?"

"Yeah, Heavenly Earth observation... thingy caught more than just the collaboration we expected, information was shared here somehow - but that's not what we're talking about."

"Right." Aziraphale said with a red-tinged nod before pausing to think. "Well... I'm very glad neither of us have either side breathing down our necks enough that we can't properly express how we feel anymore. Though, it _is_ odd that it's so much of a known fact after thinking anything we might one day have together would have to be kept a secret, I'll admit."

"Hm. Okay." Rozzen replied thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure what else I can say on the matter."

They shrugged. "Good enough, I suppose."

Aziraphale gave them a questioning look. "Don't you have... evil deeds that need being done? I'm sure there are better things to do than talk to silly old me, are there not?"

"_Shit_," Rozzen hissed, their eyes widening as something came to mind. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be- _ugh_, bloody music threw me off!"

They rushed out of the room shortly thereafter, leaving Aziraphale to continue his redecorating in peace.

With the portion of Hell within his vacinity quietened again, he hit play on the CD player and turned the volume up a few notches more, which would _of course_ be acceptable. After all, he'd been asked to turn it off, not to _keep_ it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (¬‿¬) mischief time  
look i didn't mean to make ocs and put them this prominently but it happened and their inclusion will be chilled the fuck out for the rest of this i promise adfshgdfd  
come talk with me on [my tumblr](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/) about good omens and other things!!! I'm lonely umu


	6. Temptations, caused and averted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back babey  
rating's getting a lil bump upward bc there's some :o inappropriateness in this one. this chapter gets relatively saucy but will likely be the only one in this fic to have this level of... sauce  
honestly I don't have much to say rn except my opinion on this chapter fluctuates from "oh god I hate it" to "wow!! a good" every 5 minutes so. here u go  
enjoy folks <3

"Did we make a mistake?" Gabriel mused aloud. "I'm starting to feel like we made a mistake."

"No." Beelzebub responded. "This is fine. They're just acting out."

The pair had met up discreetly once more. This time it was at a party a teenage girl was throwing while her parents were away (for business or to visit some sick friend or family member in hospital or something - she hadn't paid attention to those details) despite their requests. It was practically a breeding ground for potential sins and potential salvations.

Their corporeal forms would've looked out of place, and definitely inappropriate, had anyone been able to see them wandering about the house. Fortunately for the supernatural beings, because of their supernatural nature, they were hidden to the surrounding gaggle of teens.

"Give it time. They'll calm down. Maybe they'll even fall in line a bit." the demon continued.

"Maybe." the archangel said, then paused. "...We probably could've planned this better, though."

Beelzebub, for a moment, turned their attention to two young men elsewhere in the host's living room, who seemed to be inching closer to a fistfight with each passing second, their aggravated yells mostly drowned out by the booming music.

"We could try killing them again now. Surely Crowley and Aziraphale are vulnerable to hellfire and holy water respectively now, aren't they?" they suggested.

"Are you kidding me?" Gabriel scoffed. "No, no, no, no. No way, we can't risk trying that. Just because they've got new spiritual essences doesn't mean their immunity's gone away for sure. What if they found a way to get rid of weaknesses to _both_ of them?"

"Hm. I suppose you have a point there."

"Yeah, no, it's way too dangerous. If they're still immune and we try another execution? We're goners, for sure. They'll know _we_ set this off and take their revenge in any way they want. That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

"Y'know, I'd suggest we attempt to lie about it if they figure it out," Beelzebub said, looking up at Gabriel. "But then we'd probably be in an even worse mess. Angels are crap at lying."

Gabriel shouldnt've taken offense - lying isn't exactly _holy_ \- but he did even so. "I can lie!"

"Yeah, _sure_ you can."

"I can! If I want to!"

"Prove it."

"Wh-" Gabriel stuttered and stumbled over his words. "I- of course I- you- maybe I don't feel like it right now."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, is that a new suit? Wow. Looks _great_."

A look of pleasant surprise appeared on the angel's face. "Oh! Well, I shouldn't thank a demon, but... thankyou! Actually, I've had this one a while, it-"

"See, _that's_ how you lie, Gabriel." Beelzebub interrupted, slouching against the nearby wall and showing just a hint of a smirk. "Take some notes."

Gabriel's own smile fell then, and he resolved to reel the topic of the conversation back in. "You should've seen the walls upstairs. Terrible. Do you know how much work and how many miracles it took to clean it all up?"

"At least you got a nice mess. We had the bloody Sound Of Music playing for two days straight before someone figured out where it was coming from."

Gabriel perked up at that. "Wow, really? That's my favourite!"

"_Give me strength_, you angels are fucking predictable."

* * *

It was in Crowley's flat - more specifically, in his bed - that he and Aziraphale found themselves a few days after they'd set their petty revenge against Heaven and Hell into motion. And they were currently very unclothed.

"Crowley." Aziraphale sighed. "Dear."

Crowley paused in kissing his way down his partner's chest, and tilted his head upwards to look at him, the duvet sliding down his back as he leaned up on his elbows. "Yeah, babes?"

"Now, I have nothing against those Queen fellows - you know that. I've actually grown rather fond of their music after all the time spent with you playing it in the bentley,"

"Mhm." Crowley said with another kiss.

"And I know it's only playing because you let it _continue_ playing before we got around to this... but..."

The speakers in Crowley's flat continued playing in the background, regardless of the pair's conversation. "_...Oh, won't you take me home tonight..._"

"...You do choose the most interesting music to have on whilst we copulate."

The angel rolled his eyes. "Are you really gonna say 'copulate' when I'm getting ready to ride you into my mattress?"

"Are _you_ really going to have Mr. Mercury as the accompaniment to our lovemaking?"

"Zira, you know I can't resist this album any more than I can resist you. Anyway, it's not like either of us are gonna be doing much listening once I get you screaming." Crowley punctuated his sentence with a wink and moved on to kissing Aziraphale's neck, and quietly sang between the kisses. "_...Fat bottomed angels make the rockin' world go round..._"

"'Demons', now, love." Aziraphale corrected.

"Wh... yeah, 'fat bottomed demons', then, ugh... I'm too used to thinking the first one."

The demon smirked. "Darling, if you really can't resist me that much, can I ask you to turn off the music so I can focus on you better?"

"Mmf, fine." Crowley snapped his fingers, and then the music stopped.

Aziraphale smiled warmly at him. "Thankyou, dear."

"Can we get to it now, then?"

"Go right ahead." Aziraphale answered, then pressed a long, slow, tender kiss of his own to Crowley's lips.

Their mouths parted, and Crowley resumed his previous worshipping of the demon's body, with intent to continue moving ever southwards. Aziraphale sighed happily beneath him as he did so, gently threading his fingers between Crowley's auburn locks.

And then came the interruption. A faint smell of ozone and a quiet, yet distinctly close, crack of lightning. 'Close' as in... right in the corner of the bedroom.

A stunned voice, unmistakably Gabriel's, came from the corner. "...Oh, good lord."

The pair in the bed whipped their heads to look towards the now-present archangel, pointing differing expressions at him. Crowley, frozen, had panic written all over his reddening face, while Aziraphale was far more... unamused.

"Gabriel." Aziraphale said, his frown evident even in the tone of his voice. "We're in the middle of something."

"Y-yes, I can... I can see that." Gabriel stuttered in response, trying his best to look away from the half-covered couple in front of him.

"What are you doing here?"

Gabriel squirmed. "Well, I, uh... I _was_ here to let Crowley know what he's supposed to do today, but- look, I-I'll just send a memo over- should've just done that in the first place... Uh... keep an eye out for that, Crowley."

"Yep." Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale's chest with a grimace and gave the other angel a thumbs up. "Got it."

With that, Gabriel disappeared as quickly as he arrived, leaving the pair alone with eachother again.

Crowley groaned. "Of all the times..."

"Never mind him, dear." Aziraphale reassured. "Gabriel seeing us getting intimate isn't worth fretting about, I'd say. Now... shall we continue?"

"Nah, nope, I don't think I can get it going anymore now that I've had to see his mug." Crowley answered, rolling off the demon and cuddling close to him instead. "Mood's killed."

"Oh. Well. Alright, then."

"Sorry to disappoint, love. Maybe later."

"Dear, you could never disappoint - definitely not in this area." Aziraphale kissed the angel's cheek. "If you're not in the mood anymore, we needn't press on, no questions asked."

The pair lay in pleasant quietness for a handful of minutes. It was calm, and comfortable, even with the still recent disturbance. There was skin against skin, and warm bodies, and a warm duvet covering them, and occasional soft kisses, and it was all they needed.

"...Hmmh, absolute prick." Crowley suddenly mumbled into his lover's neck after a short while. "Ruins everything he can, doesn't he?."

"Gabriel?" Aziraphale guessed.

"Yeah."

"Hm, yes, he certainly does."

The demon paused, then, as a thought came to mind.

"You know, dear, I've been thinking - I thought you were still upset about your initial Fall... Besides, you know, dealing with Gabriel and the gang, I would've imagined you'd be _happy_ to be accepted back into heaven."

The angel looked at him questioningly. "What... what do you mean?"

"Well, I've seen you a few times, looking wistfully at the stars you said you made, in the sky and in astronomy books, or trying to voice your sadness to the Almighty when you think I can't hear, or just generally grumbling about being cast out all that time ago. You'd think - at least, I did - that you would be thrilled to be an angel again... So - again, besides the more _obvious_ downsides... _and_ the assumed knowledge that this has been done to us out of spite... might I ask why you're not?"

Crowley thought about his question for a minute. "I mean... it just doesn't feel _right_, I guess. God threw me away over stupid, petty things... questions, reasonable questions, being in the wrong damn place at the wrong damn time... and I was condemned for _all_ that time afterwards, just for _that_. And now, I'm supposed to have my Grace and Glory and white bloody wings and whatever the fuck else back, just like that? Over what I can only assume is somebody screwing royally with us?"

He sighed, turning his gaze towards the ceiling. "I'd rather things just stayed as they were for me, really."

"You would?" Aziraphale asked.

"Yeah, I mean... I dunno. I'll take change, gladly, but... this? Me going back to heaven... it feels cheap. Wrong." Crowley looked back at his partner. "Making me Fall can't really just be... taken back, just like that, can it? Thousands of years, and now I get a 'whoops, changed my mind'? Y'know, fuck off, what does that do about all my time being down in Hell?"

The answer to the question was obvious - nothing. So many thousands of years had already passed and been lost to his damnation.

"I don't particularly want to work for either side, of course." he continued. "One gets a better reputation among humans and gets to be buddy-buddy with God - whatever _that's_ worth - and one allows some more freedom to indulge without worry, but everyone, upstairs or downstairs, is an asshole, and frankly, I'd rather go without entirely."

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully in response.

"Enough of that, though. _You_, Zira." Crowley said, tapping the tip of Aziraphale's nose.

"Me?"

"_I_ would've thought _you'd_ be more upset about Falling. Are you _actually_ handling this as well as it looks like you are, or is there something you're hiding from me?"

It was Aziraphale's turn to think about what to say now.

"Hm... To be honest, I think I really _am_ just... taking this all in stride. It does feel rather odd, really. Of course, I was very upset at first - why wouldn't I be, my whole existence had just been turned upside down, I'd been practically disowned by the very deity whom my purpose had been to serve...! But I... I suppose it was just ridiculous enough - that I'd tried so hard to avoid this outcome, just to end up here anyway over such a stupid slight against such stupid plans made by a... _stupid_ God who'd be _stupidly_ happy to destroy Her wonderful creations - that I just... found the comedy in the tragedy. And the sense, among the nonsense."

Crowley smirked at the descriptor the demon had given for the Almighty, and let him continue.

"If She doesn't want me... fine. Good. She has terrible taste in angels, anyway. I'd rather not be counted among them, now that I can look back on my old colleagues properly."

Aziraphale paused. _That's not entirely right_, he thought.

"Well, She has terrible taste except when it comes to you, my love." he corrected, cradling Crowley's cheek in his hand. "She made _you_ as an angel - a wonderful one. But, then again, She apparently can't decide whether to keep you or not. Like a contrary child with Her toys - and isn't that just how She is with everything?"

"So... are you finally not worried about Her approval anymore?" Crowley asked.

"...Just a bit, I think. I know I shouldn't care what She thinks, but it's a hard habit to break, you know. Millennia of thinking Her approval matters doesn't just disappear like that, unfortunately. I'm sure I'll get over the need to be in Her good books soon enough... maybe. It'll just take a little while longer."

Crowley chuckled at that. "Amazing. You reached the same conclusion just a few days after your Fall as I did a good few centuries after my own."

Aziraphale giggled too, his partner's laugh was too infectious not to. Then it slowly faded as he thought about Crowley's words further. "The same conclusion?"

The angel sighed. "I guess... part of me still wanted - _wants_, honestly, to know I'm worthy of Her love. Even if I know it's stupid, even if I ignore that little niggling thought pestering me about that."

"Hm. Yes, that does sound like what's been going through my own head."

"But," Crowley continued, nuzzling up even closer to Aziraphale. "Then I remind myself that the only person whose love _really_ matters at all to me... is yours."

Aziraphale would've failed to even try holding back a loving smile at those words. "And I'll love you any way you are, Crowley. My dearest." he said, giving the other being a peck on the lips. "...Hm, you know, that sounds like a good reminder. I'll have to start using it myself."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. But the other way around, of course."

The two fell into comfortable silence once more, simply holding eachother close for a little while. And then, suddenly, Crowley shifted his position, ending up straddling the demon's hips.

"Y'know what," he piped up, smirking. "I've changed my mind. Mood's back for me if it is for you."

Aziraphale grinned back up at him. "Well, let's get on with it, then, shall we?"

* * *

Today, Crowley hadn't been assigned any duties in particular. He was supposed to 'go out into the world and spread general goodwill, and lead any humans seemingly about to sin away from the temptation of it'. That begged the question, then, in his opinion, why did Gabriel think he'd need to tell him that in person?

Perhaps he'd been supposed to do something more important. Perhaps the _incident_ that morning had caused Gabriel to hand over Crowley's intended work to someone less... distracted. Perhaps.

Fine with him. Less to do, now.

It was after he and Aziraphale had finally gotten themselves untangled from eachother and miracled some clothes on that he decided to go 'out into the world' (but really, just sticking to London), but rather than 'spreading general goodwill', he was finding something to treat his favourite demon to.

He ended up wandering into a bakery he remembered Aziraphale mentioning in passing a few weeks ago. There were cupcakes for sale there that the demon had gotten very excited about when telling Crowley about his visit there, and his only lament had been that he'd forgotten to try the chocolate ones. He hadn't been bothered enough to go back since then, so Crowley decided to amend his partner's little regret.

The warmth and bread-y, cake-y smell of the place wafted towards him as soon as he walked in. The scent was sweet and savoury all at once, and while food was quite far down on his list of favourite Earthly pleasures, he could feel his mouth watering _just_ a tad as he tasted the air.

He glanced over the display nearest to him. There they were. The target. The chocolate cupcakes, sat as a batch beside groups of other small cakes that would've been identical were it not for the differing colours of cake and swirls of frosting denoting their flavours.

Near the display, he noticed a young woman buying a large, fresh loaf of bread. Her eyes weren't on the transaction she was making with the young man behind the counter, but rather on the very same chocolate cupcakes Crowley was here to get. She unconsciously licked her lips and mumbled "Should I...?" quietly to herself as she was handed back her change, obviously enticed by the cakes.

Then Crowley felt something in the air. Something miracle-y. Then a notification came on the woman's phone, which she checked for the quickest of split seconds, then ignored as she looked back at the cupcakes, obviously to further consider whether to buy some of them.

Then another miracle-y feeling. This time, a handful of loaves of bread suddenly fell from their shelves and onto the floor - wrapped in their own plastic bags, so they were still perfectly sellable. The woman looked over in the direction of the '_poomf_' sounds of the loaves hitting the floor, but looked back at the cakes again straight after. It was quite the debate she was having with herself, evidently.

A conversation was suddenly struck up between the woman and the man behind the counter. Crowley had a feeling it would last a while.

It was after the third feeling of a miracle happening in his general vacinity that Crowley noticed what he couldn't believe he hadn't seen already. Michael was there in the corner of the bakery, pretending to appraise a baguette that they were turning over in their hands while actually glancing at the Cupcake Woman, as Crowley was internally referring to her. They hadn't seen Crowley, too caught up in the cupcake situation to care.

_Ah_, he thought, _someone's here to prevent some gluttony, eh? Quietly distracting her so she'll decide not to get them? Hmm?_

Then... Michael's presence gave him an idea.

_Time to ruin some heavenly schemes._

He backed up and stepped outside, pulling out his mobile and calling Aziraphale, who picked up almost instantly.

"Hello?"

"Ang- _fucking_\- Zira," Crowley corrected himself. "Do you remember that bakery you mentioned maybe... last month? With the cupcakes, there- there were red velvet ones, I think."

"Oh! Crowley! Yes, of course, why do you ask?"

"How soon can you be here?"

"What are you doing at a bakery? I thought you weren't a fan of food."

"Never mind that._ How soon_, babes?"

"...A minute, perhaps two. What for?"

"I've got an idea, but I need some help from your demonic self."

* * *

"...You never mentioned over the telephone that Michael was here." Aziraphale said as he glanced through the bakery's window.

"Yes I did." Crowley assured, smirking. "You were just too busy blathering on about the sausage rolls they have here."

The demon pouted. "Alright, perhaps you did."

"If it were some other random asshole non-archangel angel I wouldnt've asked you."

"Mhm. Why, again, did you ask me?"

"Because, this way, I - we - get to fuck this up for Michael, and I don't get scolded by heaven because I _technically_ didn't directly sabotage this thing they're doing. _And_ I can get the cakes I was planning on getting for you _to_ you even quicker."

Aziraphale looked happily surprised at that. "You were getting cakes for me?"

Crowley shrugged. "You said you regretted leaving out the chocolate ones last time."

"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale kissed the angel's cheek. "You're too sweet. Alright, let's head on in. I'll have this done in just a tick."

They entered the bakery, and, as Crowley expected, the woman was still chatting with the man. They were old secondary school buddies, taking the opportunity to catch up, if the parts of their conversation that Crowley had overheard suggested anything.

Aziraphale's face lit up when his eyes landed on the cupcakes, and he quickly miracled a few bank notes into his hand.

"Pardon the interruption," he piped up. "Might I purchase one of your lovely cakes? Those chocolate ones look... hmm, no, I'd say 'divine' but I don't think that's the correct word right now..."

"Oh - right, sorry, mate." answered the man before turning to the woman for a second. "One sec, Liz, hold that thought."

The new situation hadn't gone unnoticed by Michael off to the side, and the frown on their face (that had appeared when they realised Aziraphale had arrived) only deepened as the demon bought the cake. 

This, in turn, made Crowley, who apparently had gone unseen by the archangel thus far, smile - as did the way Aziraphale bounced on the balls of his feet in glee, but for a different reason.

"Thank you, my good man. Oh, I've been so looking forward to trying one of these!"

Then, ensuring 'Liz' was paying attention, he peeled back the wrapper and took a sizable bite of the cake.

"_Oh_~" he practically moaned, his mouth still full of the confection. "Oh, that's _sinfully_ good."

Liz licked her lips as she looked on, surprised by the reaction. "It is?"

"You doubting my recipes?" the man teased.

"No, Ben," Liz answered with an amused roll of her eyes. "Just wasn't expecting _that_."

"Oh, it _really_ is that good." Aziraphale answered Liz's question, nodding excitedly at her. "Rich, and sweet, and moist..."

His finger had dipped into the frosting from how he'd held the cake, and he took a moment to lick the small sweet mess from his finger, letting out another groan as he did.

"..._Mmh_, absolutely delectable." He took another bite then, let out yet another sound of pleasure, and turned to Ben. He spoke with his mouth full of cake again; no need for manners when you're tempting humans and - well, he wasn't _entirely_ exaggerating to assist in the temptation - when you're enjoying something this good. "My compliments to the baker!"

"Well.. uh, wow, hah, thanks, sir. 'S always nice to hear feedback as, uh, flattering as that." Ben replied with a smile.

"You deserve it! This is just irresistably scrumptious!"

Liz watched on as Aziraphale took another bite of the cake and made more scandalous noises, and began to anxiously tap her feet as she looked back and forth between the demon and the other chocolate cakes.

The feeling of a miracle blew through the air. One of the overhead lights flickered violently. Aziraphale '_Mmmmh_'ed again before Liz could think of looking away.

"Oh, screw it, it's pay day," Liz exclaimed suddenly, reaching into her bag to pull out her purse. "Ben, chuck some of those in a box for me, as many as'll fit, Lizzie's gonna treat herself tonight."

Ben chuckled and set about doing as she asked. "Sure thing, just a sec."

Michael silently fumed in the corner at what they'd witnessed, then swiftly vanished in a puff of heavenly smoke. The other celestial entities glanced at them as they did, and when they were gone, Crowley stepped inside and grabbed Aziraphale's free hand to drag him outside again.

"Oh my fucking _something_, Zira," Crowley said, grinning at his partner. "Did you _see_ the look on Michael's face?!"

Aziraphale giggled and swallowed down the last bite of his cupcake. "Yes, yes! Oh, I've done temptations before - what with the _arrangement_ and such - but never to directly counter an angel's attempt to lead a human away from temptation! That was fantastic! Michael was so... ticked off!"

"I know! Oh, man, that's gotta sting, especially with it being _you_ of all demons to foil their plans."

Aziraphale shrugged. "Well, _you_ did come up with the idea, I can't take all the credit for the foiling."

"Yeah, true, but you executed it perfectly. I mean, who else could make a little cake look good enough to inspire gluttony like that?"

"Oh, thank you, love." Aziraphale smiled wider at the compliment. "And thank you for putting me up to it, that was _very_ cathartic, getting my own back a little at Michael."

"You're welcome, babes." Crowley said with a quick kiss to Aziraphale's cheek. Then, he took a hold of the demon's hand again. "Now, let's get home so I can get some catharsis of my own. My flat - it's closer."

"Hmm? Why do we need to go home?"

"After those noises you were making? I think I need a repeat of this morning, if you're down for it. _Minus_ that interruption."

Crowley's grin grew mischievous, and so did Aziraphale's own smile, once he figured out what the angel had just implied.

"Well," Aziraphale chuckled. "I'm most certainly 'down' for it. Let's get going, dear."

* * *

For the second time that day, Aziraphale was pulling his trousers back on again, perched on the edge of Crowley's bed (although he may as well have called it his own as well, by now, with how often he found himself in it).

"So," Crowley began, still laying quite nude and boneless under the duvet. "What's on the agenda for the rest of today? 'M guessing this fun's over, since you're getting dressed."

Aziraphale sighed. "Hell's sending me to a small town an hour or so out from London. There's a birthday do going on a little while later at a local pub, and they think some of the guests are going to start a ruckus after having too much to drink."

"And you've got to inspire some wrath in them, I assume? Get a proper fight going?"

"My dear, how on Earth did you know?"

Crowley shrugged. "Done it a few times myself - with results of varying amounts of amusement. Hey, you want a lift there?"

Aziraphale craned his head around to smile back at his partner as he straightened up his bow tie. "Oh, if you would, my dear - you know, I was actually just about to ask if you wanted to come along!"

"Oh yeah? You were?"

"Well," the demon chuckled. "I'd just gotten the news about my demonic duties for today, and then there was your little scheme at the bakery just after... and, well, it gave me some ideas of my own..."

"Ideas?" Crowley grinned back at him. "Well, I'm listening, Zira."

* * *

Tensions were already high at _The Swan_ when Aziraphale arrived with Crowley in tow. The people gathered in the pub to celebrate a 'Richard's' 40th birthday certainly hadn't expected any voices to be raised as loud as this - at least, not without some kind of jubilance behind them, which certainly wasn't there at the moment.

It was two of Richard's friends who were instigating the majority of the unrest. Insults were spat. Things were being said about peoples' wives. Chests were shoved.

"That's the target, then, I suppose?" Crowley asked, gesturing towards the loudest area of the pub.

"Indeed it is." Aziraphale said as a smirk grew on his face. "Though, I really shouldn't be telling an angel that, lest I find my evil wiles thwarted - and how _terrible_ that would be, hmm?"

"Well, it is what I'm supposed to do, right? Primary objective when demons are involved. Thwart wiles."

Aziraphale dramatically faked a sigh. "Oh, such a _shame_. I suppose it can't be helped, though. Ah, well, I'd better get to it!"

Then the demon walked away from the angel and waved sweetly back at him as he did. He made his way towards the group of people, whose arguments were still rising in volume... and, despite his words, walked straight past them, taking a seat at one of the tables rather than doing what he supposedly had come here to do. He sat up straight in his seat and clasped his hands together in his lap, excitedly waiting, anticipating.

As his partner sat down, Crowley found himself his own spot near the arguing men. They were even less comprehensible up close, he found, languidly leaning against the nearby wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. He could barely tell how close they actually were to a fight - they could've needed tons of Aziraphale's help to get to that point, none at all, or any amount in between - it was entirely guesswork, figuring out if he'd have to de-escalate the situation like he and Aziraphale had planned.

But then voices got raised again, and just in case things were about to tip over into 'this'll be considered as Aziraphale actually contributing to what Hell wants' territory, he stepped in.

"You fffucking want some?!" one of the men slurred, with vitriol loud and clear in his voice, grabbing a hold of the collar of the man in front of him.

"Fuck off, Gary," said other man responded, shoving the first man back harshly. "Y'always were a cu-"

"Lads!" Crowley interjected with a smile, trying to greet the men again when they failed to notice him. "Gents! Hi there!"

The men, caught off guard by the angel's friendly approach, looked towards him, grips loosening and eyebrows raising in surprise. Their confused faces were enough of a response for Crowley.

"Can I ask you fellows a question?" he continued.

"What," 'Gary' retorted. "Apart from the one you just asked?"

A chuckle rang out among the group, which Crowley echoed. "Hah, you're a funny guy, mate, hilarious; anyway, do you guys mind if I-"

"Get on with it, then!" one of the more inebriated men piped up.

"Gotcha." Crowley said, then cleared his throat, pausing for dramatic effect. "Can I ask you folks for a moment of your time to talk about Jesus Christ?"

The men shared looks of bewilderment between eachother, then one of them burst out laughing. And then the rest of the group followed.

"Is this bloke serious?" another one said between hearty laughs. "Mate, are you sure you're in the right place?"

"Last time I went to church was... pff, had to have been before I moved out of my mum's!" Gary added.

_That was easy_, Crowley thought, feigning disappointment. "Aw, you guys aren't interested in a quick chat about the Lord?"

"You're asking the wrong guys." Richard replied with a shake of his head and a messy shooing motion in Crowley's direction. "Toddle on, mate, 's my birthday, we're busy. Celebrating."

Crowley shrugged. "Ah, shame. Well, many happy returns to you, and, uh, enjoy the rest of the evening, lads."

Then, the angel walked away, heading towards where Aziraphale had taken a seat. He glanced back over his shoulder at the gathering, just to make sure they weren't back at eachother's throats again. And they weren't - instead, they were laughing together about the bizarre interruption Crowley had brought to them. It had worked just as he'd hoped.

"Mission accomplished." he said with a smirk as he slumped down into the seat across from his partner.

"Goodness, my dear, that was quicker than I thought it would be!" Aziraphale responded. "Interesting approach, I must say."

"How better to stop people being angry at eachother than to get them all ridiculing someone else?"

The demon nodded. "Hm, very true."

"I did get lucky though. Dunno what I would've done if any of 'em were religious."

"_Oh, and here I thought that that would've made it easier to sway them towards sin_," Aziraphale responded with a dramatic sigh. "_How unfortunate, my wiles have been thoroughly thwarted by an angel of the Lord_."

"Yeah. Oh well, too bad for Hell." Crowley said with a laugh and a nonchalant shrug. "Too bad for Heaven, too - 's not like I led them to salvation instead."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Everybody loses!"

"You only lose the game if you're playing, Zira." Crowley smirked. "And we haven't been playing for a while now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmmmmg i'm too tired rn lads  
[come talk to me on tumblr!](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/)  
[and/or come hang in my new(ish) gomens-themed discord server!](https://discord.gg/CXrzTUs)  
<3


	7. Them Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me long enough but I return w/ more of this \o/ soz lads life's been in the way  
call it a late xmas pressie uwu  
btw! for those of you who don't follow me on tumblr and are curious, here's what [Ithuriel](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/post/189727524571/if-you-read-my-fics-or-one-specific-fic-youll) and [Rozzen](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/post/189833842556/oh-snemon-snail-demon-oc-dont-mind-if-i-do) look like!  
anyway as usual hope u enjoy <3

There was a snake hanging around in heaven. There had been a snake hanging around in heaven all morning today, in fact.

Said snake was, of course, Crowley, up to his favourite activity - well, one of his favourites: mischief.

He slithered around the hallowed floors without direction, without even much of a goal. He had little more planned than trying to frighten passing angels in his serpentine form, and perhaps nap a little to pass the time. He'd coil up to rest in unexpected spots, hiss loudly and suddenly out of the blue, and wriggle over to sit in places that would cause the most possible inconvenient disruptions to his colleagues - the last of which wasn't so much 'frightening' as it was annoying, which worked for Crowley just fine.

He ignored the somewhat unpleasant feeling of the cold, sterile floor beneath him on his scaly belly as he'd move in favour of scaring and bugging his fellow angels. Physically, it wasn't fun, but suffering through the sensation was worth it to hear the shrill shrieks and see the unnerved faces of any nearby angels.

One of which - Gabriel, to be exact - was warily heading towards him now.

Crowley, resting on top of some other angel's desk, lifted his head above his coiled-up body upon seeing the archangel approach. "Gabe!" he exclaimed, his voice coming unnaturally from his fanged mouth, thick with amusement. "How's it going?"

"Crowley," Gabriel greeted, exasperated. "Is this really necessary?"

"Is what really necessary?" Crowley asked with a tilt of his head to fake as much confusion as possible.

Gabriel gestured over Crowley's form. "This... you- this- the whole... snake... thing."

Crowley glanced at his coiled body. "I don't see the issue here."

"Look, can you just... switch back to your humanoid form? Please?"

"Why?"

"It's very discomforting - as I'm sure everyone else here would agree."

"Now, that's clearly untrue. Not _everyone_." Crowley rebutted, gesturing elsewhere with a nod of his head. "Ithuriel said he thought I looked funky."

"Well, we can't all be as... _odd_... as you and Ithuriel, now, can we?"

"Nothing wrong with being _odd_, Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed. "_Okay_, whatever you say, but there's something to be said about making yourself look threatening on purpose. Change."

With a roll of his eyes, Crowley complied. Sort of. While he now had arms, legs, and a generally human-looking body, most of his skin stayed covered in scales, shiny and black, clearly fading into red from under his chin to the skin on his chest that peeked out of his shirt, and further downwards, at a reasonable guess. A set of fangs also remained in his mouth, sharp and prominent, as did his tongue, even slimmer and more obviously forked than usual.

He swung his legs off of the desk and crossed them, then took off his sunglasses to put his amber eyes on display, slipping them onto the collar of his shirt.

"Is that better?" he asked with a smug, fang-bearing smile.

Gabriel grimaced. "That's... that might be worse, actually."

"What's the matter?" Crowley asked facetiously. "Have I not given myself a human shape again?"

"Crowley-"

"You asked for this!" Crowley interrupted, pointing accusatorily at Gabriel, which made the archangel's nonexistent stomach drop.

"Wait, how did-"

"Your- _our_\- _fucking_\- Heaven, God, _whoever_, wanted _me_ back, and this is just part of _my_ nature. You want me, you get everything that's left over from spending forever as a demon. You want Angel Crowley, you take on Snake Crowley too."

Realising he hadn't been found out, Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief, and straightened himself up. "Just... we're talking. Can I talk to a face that _doesn't_ look like it'd discorporate me with the chance to?"

_Oh, this face would do more than discorporate you, mate_, Crowley thought before responding simply, "No."

Gabriel huffed.

"Are you just jealous, Gabe?" Crowley teased. "Upset that the only other form you've got is a mess of eyes and wings and other angelic shite?"

"True angelic forms are beautiful beyond mortal comprehension, in case you've forgotten." Gabriel said, folding his arms. "Maybe you _have_ forgotten. Maybe you've spent too much time amongst humans and gotten too accustomed to their ideas."

Crowley leaned forward and rested his head in his palms. "Speaking of humans, I know a fair few would be rather fond of this look. Very fond, indeed - ever heard of the internet? There's some really interesting stuff going on there."

Gabriel looked nonplussed. "I... didn't ask. _And_, to be clear, I'm not jealous of any of your leftover demonic attributes."

"Regardless," Crowley said, dismissing the archangel's comment with a wave. "'M not changing my appearance right now. Don't feel like it."

"You can remain as a part of heaven again, Crowley-"

"_Can_? I bloody well have to, don't I?"

"-but... we can't have the symbol for the first ever temptation hanging around the place."

"Well, that's a shame, Gabe," Crowley responded as his sharpened grin grew wider. "'Cause however much angelic-ness I used to have and-or have again, that symbol's what I am. And that's what you get."

* * *

"Say, Rozzen..."

Aziraphale was given no response by the other demon, who didn't so much as look up from the paperwork on their desk in front of them. So he tried again.

"Rozzen? You know, I've been pondering something."

Rozzen groaned, and carelessly dropped their pencil onto the desk with a curt "What?"

"I was wondering," Aziraphale answered. "When do I get my demonic... animal... thing?"

Rozzen blinked up at the ex-angel. "Excuse me?"

"It seems to me that demons tend to have a certain animal, or bug, or something, um... associated with them. Flies for Lord Beelzebub, a toad for that Hastur fellow, you have your snail attributes... and oh, of course, Crowley is - can be - actually, I'm not too certain of the logistics - he's a snake, or part snake, or something of the like."

"And why's that warrant interrupting my work?"

"You were the first demon who came to mind that I thought to ask. Well, not the first, but I'm not sure the prince of Hell themself would be the right person to make an enquiry with."

"What, your boyfriend couldn't give you any answers?"

"Oh, he had important things to attend to this morning. I didn't get a chance to ask before we headed off our own separate ways." Aziraphale lied.

Rozzen gave a curious, frustrated look. "Important things? More important than," they asked, gesturing to their work. "This? He's more busy than me?"

"Oh, yes," answered Aziraphale with a smile and a nod. "Very important. Very important indeed."

"Right." Rozzen sighed, exasperated.

"So..." Aziraphale continued. "_Do_ you know about it?"

"No. That's not a department I'm familiar with."

"Would you-"

"No, I'm not gonna help you find out. I'm _busy_, in case you didn't notice."

Aziraphale deflated exaggeratedly at their dismissal. "Oh, that's a shame. See, I've got _all_ these ideas..."

It was then, as he began to ramble on about animals and who might be in charge of them, that Rozzen dropped their head into their hands, wondering what exact part of their damnation had saddled them with dealing with this guy more than once.

* * *

Crowley, meanwhile, was searching for Michael. He was fairly certain they'd never seen him in this form before, and couldn't wait to give them a fright.

He wondered, for just a moment, if it might be a fun idea to try out a rattlesnake tail for this sometime. _No_, he thought to himself, _probably not, the sound'd give away my presence too early._

Michael ended up thoroughly scared once Crowley had jumped out at them.

* * *

"Now, Owls," Aziraphale said, pointing to a spot on the page of the note pad in his hands, as he stood before Beelzebub some time later. "I feel like an owl might be a good pick for me. After all, there's the association with books, and - now, this part was Crowley's suggestion - their feathers look rather fluffy, as does my hair; it would be even _more_ fitting if we were to bring up snowy owls, as well. Oh, and the flight would be quite useful, if Crowley's busy with the car and I'm in need of transport - wait, would I be able to transform into it? I still need some explanation in regards to that, I'm afraid."

"Aziraphale." the prince said simply.

The other demon continued, barely even looking up from his list. "Or how about this: a pigeon. Pigeons are known for living in cities, and, well, they're often fed by the locals, even if those giving them food are told they shouldn't - seems to fit me exactly, if we count Crowley as giving me food by taking me out to dinner and.. oh, well, you know." He giggled.

"_Aziraphale_." they repeated, sharper.

"Oh, I could go with a snake!" he gasped excitedly. "I could match Crowley perfectly!

"_Azzziraphale_," Beelzebub repeated once more. "Would you just shut up about animals and Crowley?"

Aziraphale held up a finger to halt them. "I'm not finished."

That wrung a groan and an eye roll out of the higher-ranking demon.

"Anyway," Aziraphale continued. "A duck, perhaps? Or, perhaps not, actually - they can be quite the evil little buggers. Them and swans. Yes, I know we're _meant_ to be evil down here, but, lord, have you seen how aggressive they can be? Especially when they're mating, my _word_. Oh, and don't get me started on geese!"

"Why exactly are you telling me all of this?" Beelzebub sighed, rubbing their temples.

Aziraphale frowned at the question. "Well, as I have said, every other demon I've seen has an animal... _part_ of them, and I feel I've gone quite long enough without my own."

"Wh-"

"And I was informed that actually, I should ask you, if I were to ask anyone. Seems there's not enough angels Falling these days to warrant training any current demons in the proper procedure for this sort of thing. Got to take this issue as high up as I can."

Beelzebub slumped back in their throne. "So what exactly do you want _me_ to do?

"Sort it out, obviously! I'm not going to be the only demon around these parts who's missing out."

"Alright-"

"If I'm a demon now," Aziraphale continued, clasping his hands together behind his back impatiently. "Then I'm diving headfirst into this. I've spent quite enough time going slow, and I'm going to take full advantage of all the potential perks since I've already had to undertake such a big change so suddenly already-"

"_Alright_!" the prince exclaimed, then sighed again, defeated. "If I tell you I'll sort it, will you just. Stop. Asking about it."

Aziraphale smiled, sweetly yet slyly, and bounced on his toes. "Oh, that would be fantastic, thankyou!"

"Right. Now piss off-"

"Well, now that we've got that agreed upon, I'd like to throw out a few more ideas!"

Aziraphale wasted no time in flipping to the next page of his note pad, and beginning to read out the rest of the concepts he'd come up with. Mammals, lizards, birds... he had ideas, and he had _plenty_ of them.

And Beelzebub was about to suffer through all of them.

* * *

Crowley eventually tired of his antics for the time being. As fun as it was to frighten the shit out of unaware angels and cause general unease about the workplace, they were catching on and becoming used to his presence. On top of that, he could only spend so long doing nothing but sitting around the place and faffing about with his phone while he waited for his colleagues to show up before that got boring. It was time to give his fellow angels a break... just for long enough for them to regain their sense of security again. So he changed back, and left.

It was like a breath of fresh air for the angel to be back at his partner's book shop. Despite all the open space in Heaven, it only ever felt cramped where the old Soho-based building felt freeing.

As with every other instance in recent memory when Crowley crossed the boundary between outside and inside the shop, he was forced to pause. The spot in his chest where he'd have a heart were he human (and/or if he thought he'd need one) suddenly felt full and yet light at the same time. The feeling spread throughout him like the gentle shock of a shiver without the cold.

When it subsided, he called "Zira! 'M back! You here yet?" and waited in the doorway for a response from his favourite demon. There was nothing for about a second, then a hand tapped his shoulder from behind, just outside of the shop. It was gentle enough that he knew exactly who its owner was even before he saw him.

"Right here, my love." Aziraphale chuckled, sidling up beside the angel. "Perfect timing, wouldn't you say?"

The pair shared a kiss, then headed inside the shop to go sit down together, with Aziraphale grabbing the glasses and bottle of wine they'd left on a nearby table the previous night as they went.

"So," Crowley said, pouring two glasses for them. "How'd it go?"

Aziraphale graciously took a glass from his partner, and sipped at it. "Oh, fantastic! You should've seen how annoyed Beelzebub was - they were practically at their wit's end! You know, by my guess, there'll be one more chance to do that before they decide not to risk me ranting about animals again."

Crowley laughed at the image he was given - both of Aziraphale causing his own brand of mischief, and of Beelzebub, in Hell in more ways than one. "_Hah_, nice."

"And yourself, dear? I imagine I'm unfortunately rather alone in appreciating your less human forms. Or perhaps fortunately? More to myself, after all."

"Well, babes, by my count, you're one of two. Folks upstairs couldn't stand the way I looked, 'cept that one interesting fellow I was telling you about when I had all those posters."

"Hmph, no taste, them." Aziraphale huffed playfully and kissed his partner's cheek. "Oh well, it's just like I said - more for me. You know, I'd suggest heading back up there to show them just how wonderful you are like that, but... well, it's just too lovely to have you back with me again to give you up like that."

"Speaking of being back here," Crowley piped up, gesturing to the front door. "You got any idea what's been happening every time I come in here? 'S like that door's cursed or something, I can feel whatever's going on so deep in my soul."

Aziraphale's eyebrows raised. "Cursed? I rather think not. What is it exactly that you're feeling?"

"I dunno, it's vaguely familiar, but I can't place it exactly. It's, like... warm, and light, and... exciting? Starts about here," He pointed to a particular spot on his chest. "And spreads all over, then it's mostly gone but likes to hang around."

A few things happened to Aziraphale's face then. First, it scrunched up as he repeatedly tapped a finger against his glass, deep in thought. Then, it lit up as his thoughts became clear. Then, a bashful smile spread across it.

"Oh, Crowley, my darling," he said with a soft chuckle. "You've been sensing love again. I mean, I presume. I love you dearly, much as I do this old bookshop, and with my connection to it, how much time I spend here... I suppose you've been picking up on both of those in tandem when you walk in."

"Wow," Crowley said, eyes widening for a moment. "Damn, it really has been a while since I was able to pick up on that kind of energy, huh?"

Aziraphale shrugged, smirking. "Oh, only all of time. not that long."

The pair laughed, and the bottle between them was empty by the night's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yell w/ me on tumblr uwu](https://lollyholly99.tumblr.com/)


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